


all the other kids

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: #GiveBenKenobiABreak2020, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Boys In Love, Cause someone had to do it, Child Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Finally, Found Family, Happy Ending, I'm so sorry, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Mutual Pining, Please don't copy to another site, SUCK IT BITCHES YOU'RE IN FOR SOME P I N I N G, Softcore philosophical meandering with bonus sass, aww isn't that sweet, now watch me kill all that sweetness with angst and pining and adolescent incompetence, now with a crappy action scene, plot that is vaguely chronological and going somewhere, this is turning into a tragiromcom or whatever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22437418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "It's a pity that you're not unconscious," Rex drawls just as Cody manages a wheezydon't you fucking dare, "Cause now Ben can't do mouth-to-mouth on you."Cody coughs out death threats and attempts to stab Rex with his fork.---A story of friendship, found family, the curse of having siblings, growing up, coming to terms with life, and, of course, falling in love.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Jango Fett, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, Jango Fett & CT-7567 | Rex, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Comments: 106
Kudos: 479
Collections: Anonymous





	1. too young, too dumb

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because a) someone had to and b) I wanted to. I would also like to say this: if you're sensitive to topics like domestic violence, bullying, trauma, etc., this isn't the thing for you.
> 
> You may guess but here are the ages of the more characters, at least at the start, to help:  
> Cody - 18 (year 13//senior)  
> Obi-Wan (Ben) - 17 (year 13//senior)  
> Rex - 18 (year 13//senior)  
> Anakin - 10 (year 6//fifth grade)  
> Boba - 23  
> Quinlan - 17 (year 13//senior)  
> Din Djarin - 16 (year 12//junior)  
> Paz Vizla - 17 (year 12//junior)  
> The Kid - 4
> 
> NB: this is set in Cambridge - the UK one. The reasons for that are: I know it like the back of my own hand, and the UK schooling system is the only one I really know, meaning the story can flow better, have more accurate details, and I can relax a little. Thank you for your understanding.
> 
> Many thanks to my amazing beta, Charles. You deserve the world, love!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the poem at the start is a fragment from Women by Charles Bukowski, but genderbent to male pronouns.

> _"he had wild eyes, slightly insane,_
> 
> _he also carried an overload of compassion,_
> 
> _that was real enough and which had_
> 
> _obviously cost him something."_
> 
> -Charles Bukowski

"You’re so fucking stupid," Cody says as he stares at the darkening bruise under Ben's eye.

Ben shrugs and doesn't answer, just hisses quietly as he dabs make-up onto his face with a matter-of-fact, practised motion.

Cody sighs, a little too loud, making Ben shrink into his hoodie. He leans back, trying to get in a more comfortable position - the cold, plastic edge of the sink is digging into his thighs. He squints up at the ceiling in a poor attempt to give Ben some space. 

Eventually, though, he has to turn back. The bathroom lights are an unpleasant shade of yellowish-white, making sharp, skullish contours of Ben's face, the bruise harsh against discoloured skin. Ben swipes the sponge a few more times, and the reddish mark disappears like magic. He stares at the cracked mirror for a few seconds longer, examining the result and working his jaw; Cody winces as it cracks loudly. Ben’s cropped hair is a drab brown in the flickering overhead light, usual copper shine lost beneath the grease. His eyes shine like gunmetal, hard and shut off, blue-green twinkle lost as well, though beneath what, Cody’s not quite sure.

He sighs again. Ben’s face twitches, something that might almost have been a smile. 

"I'm serious," he barks, sucking in an inaudible breath as Ben’s face drops, "Ben, you can't just- you can't just let them do... _this_." He gestures wildly, unsure of what he’s referring to, but knowing he’s kept his mouth shut for too damn long. 

Ben stares back at him, blinking once, twice. The little box in his hand snaps shut with a click that's far too loud in the almost-silence of the bathroom.

"So what do you expect me to do?" he snaps, eyes flashing, "What, knock them to the ground with a single punch -"

"You _can_ do that, you realise," Cody interrupts, "You're what, a black belt in karate? And you do Taekwon-Do too."

Ben makes a disgusted noise.

"Yeah, yeah, I _know_ it goes against your moral code," Cody tries _very_ hard to keep the frustration out of his voice, but from the look on Ben’s face, he’s not succeeding. "But you can't keep getting used as a punching bag."

Ben mutters something under his breath. Cody wants to ask what it was, but thinks better of it; he keeps his mouth shut, biting back a retort. The suddenly small Ben avoids his eyes, looking at what must be a _fascinating_ stain on the wall.

Cody breathes out heavily through his nose and feels his will weaken. Ben is a far too sorry sight for him to be harsh for long. But this… situation… is only going to get worse, and Cody’s protective instincts always seem to kick into overdrive around Ben. 

"Do I need to maim a few of your,” he grimaces, “ _Acquaintances_?"

He’s dead serious, but his heart still skips a beat when a genuine smile flashes briefly across Ben's face.

"I can’t imagine you can carry maiming equipment around without getting a few odd looks."

"Fine then, no maiming equipment. I'll just magic them to death, and no one will suspect a thing.” 

Ben wrinkles his nose. “I’m the Scottish one, you know. If anyone would use magic, it would be _me_.”

"No," Cody replies, mock-thoughtfully, as he swings an arm around Ben's still-narrow shoulders, "You’re far too barbaric for that. You'd just stone them."

"I can always plan an ‘ _accident_ ’,” Ben’s over-the-top finger quotes earn him a snort and a gentle punch on the shoulder, “During a rugby match, Agatha Christie-style."

"Stone them," Cody insists. 

Ben's lips thin in distaste. He's leaning a little too heavily into Cody's side, which isn't _unpleasant_ , not at all, just... odd, since that bastard Maul only managed to sock Ben in the face, not the body.

"That's so _uncivilised_." Ben interrupts his thoughts, voice haughty.

Cody snorts. "You're uncivilised."

"And there is that brilliant wit that came up with such a creative, original idea as ‘stone them.’"

“I stand by my statement.” Cody cocks an eyebrow. “What, do you have a better idea?” 

“I think anything would be a better idea than stone them.”

“I’ll stone _you_.”

Ben laughs, startled and loud, like he didn't expect to. “That doesn’t even - _what -_ ”

Cody grins at Ben’s sputtering as they weave their way down the corridor towards the canteen. They keep the banter going, but Cody can practically see the nervousness rolling off Ben in waves as they pass The Area. The smaller teen is subconsciously fiddling with his lanyard, flipping his ID card between his fingers.

Thankfully, they make it past without incident.

"Is it okay for Anakin to stay at your house again?" Ben asks quietly, so much so that Cody barely hears it as they sit down across from Rex. 

Rex still hears him, however, and he and Cody nod in unison.

Ben, as always when they manage to do something in sync, smiles. Even if it has been a little wan lately... it’s better than nothing.

"Your parents out on a business trip again?"

Ben's face goes tight for a split second, before he smooths it out.

Cody kicks Rex under the table. Rex kicks him back, but the half-heartedness of it shows that Rex has probably come to the realisation that being repeatedly left alone to care for a stubborn ten-year-old with anger issues is probably not a tactful topic to discuss. 

"Would you like to come too?" Rex asks through a mouthful of food.

Cody smacks him upside the head. "Don't talk with your mouth full, tamaiti.”

The blond splutters indignantly. "Oh, I’m _sorry_ , my wise, sage, enlightened,” he grasps around for an appropriate adjective, “Elderly elder of a single _hour_."

Cody smiles indulgently at him and turns back to Ben, who's picking absently at his food.

"Seriously, general," Ben smiles softly at the nickname, "You're always welcome in our house. You know that, right?"

"You’re welcome in Cody's _bed_ ," Rex mutters mutinously, snickering. Cody glares at Rex, but Ben doesn't react, as of he hasn't heard-

"No, it's fine," Ben falters, "I just- I need someone to watch Anakin because I have things to do and he needs- he needs to be watched."

"Sure thing," Rex chimes in, cheerful while he deals a vicious kick to Cody’s shin, "We'd love to."

For reasons that Cody doesn't quite understand, Rex has an attachment to the devil child. He smiles, and Ben looks relieved; the heaviness around him eases a little.

"Thank you so much," he breathes with a quirk of his lips and goes back to picking at the soggy pasta on his plate.

"We should have just gone out to buy food," Rex whines as he pushes his own pasta around, "There's a Tesco Express _just around the corner_."

"Have you _seen_ their sandwiches?” Ben asks.

"This is the lesser of two evils, " Cody retorts. “We might have eaten _this_ a thousand times but at least it’s up to health standards.”

Rex rolls his eyes. “I doubt that. At least they have something _else_ to eat.”

Ben side-eyes him. "Like what, the girls at the till?"

Cody chokes on his own mouthful of soggy pasta and Ben smirks, radiating a quiet smugness. Rex pretends to gag along with him. 

"Why me?" Rex asks mournfully. “Me, your dearest, bestest, most beloved -”

"Anakin isn't here," Ben interrupts his monologue serenely. Rex, in the middle of gasping dramatically, lets out a chuckle. 

Cody continues to choke.

Eventually, after Rex has whacked him on the back _far_ too hard for it to be justified, Cody manages to breathe normally again. Rex, however, has that glint in his eyes that never ends in anything good. 

"It's a pity that you're not unconscious," Rex drawls just as Cody manages a wheezy _don't you fucking dare_ , "Cause now Ben can't do mouth-to-mouth on you."

Cody coughs out death threats and attempts to stab Rex with his fork. 

“You’re just upset that he didn’t!” Rex taunts from underneath the bench, reduced to hiding there in fear of Cody’s cutlery expertise. 

Ben just watches them, amused, and a little puzzled. He's wonderfully oblivious like that sometimes, and, while on the one hand, it's adorable and is probably the only reason he hasn't noticed Cody's tiny, very manageable crush on him that _isn't_ bordering on "falling in love" territory (shut up Rex), it can also be fairly annoying.

"Surely it's a good thing that Cody doesn't need CPR?" he asks mildly, "After all, Rex, you're closest to him, and I can’t imagine he’d be happy to wake up and see your ugly mug."

Rex opens his mouth, closes it again, and flips Ben the middle finger as he crawls out from under the table. Ben smirks a little smugly and pushes his plate away. He glances at the clock and groans. 

"Ugh, tell me the clock’s broken," he complains, his face screwing up in disgust ( _adorable_ , whispers a little voice in Cody's head. He promptly shoves it out of the way.)

"Double Politics with Miss Jenkins, is it?" Cody says. 

"Also known as Satan’s funhouse, yes." 

"I'm sure it's not _that_ bad," comes a sudden voice from behind Ben. He doesn't even startle, just sighs as Quinlan Vos flops down next to Ben with a dramatic groan. Ben mimics it, putting his hand to his forehead like he was about to faint and leaning against the other boy.

Cody's stomach twists. He tastes bile.

"I assure you, Quin, it _is._ " Ben replies, poking Vos in the arm, "Just because you lucked out with Mr. Roberts-"

Cody feels his good mood sour rapidly as the two opposite him continue to chatter. He doesn't know what they are, but they're definitely… canoodling. Seeing them always makes that Gollum-like voice in his head start chanting _mine, mine_ , even though Ben's love life is exactly... _none_ of his business. Besides, Quinlan is a great guy - they were good friends before his - well, Cody wouldn’t say it’s an ultimate betrayal, but it isn’t _not_ an ultimate betrayal.

Rex kicks him under the table. Repeatedly.

"What," he snaps, and realises Ben had been trying to get him out of his rapidly devolving thought spiral. Ben stares at him, blue eyes dimming forlornly.

"Doesn't matter," he murmurs. "Are you alright? You seem... distracted."

Cody feels his jealousy wilt into a sort of pitiful guilt.

"No sorry I'm just a bit tired, that's all," he manages lamely, "What were you going to say?"

Ben waves a hand vaguely, but his smile is a little tight.

"Oh, nothing, really," he says softly, "Just stuff."

There's an awkward silence. Quinlan stabs at his food, dreadlocks hanging in front of his eyes. Rex gives Cody another half-hearted kick. Cody kicks him back and vaguely wishes for a chaperone. Then remembers that Bail would do nothing but sit and smirk and tower over all of them while teasing Ben.

"So," Vos starts eventually, breaking the spiky, uncomfortable, silence, "How's _your girlfriend_ , Fett Number Two?"

Ben and Cody laugh because they're evil. Rex, however, goes bright red. It clashes with his hair. Red and blond? Not a tasteful combination. At least in Cody's opinion. Pale and ginger, however-

"It's not- we're not-" Rex manages, rather gracefully.

"Use protection," Ben says blandly, perfectly blasé about the whole thing, and shoves a fork of what could have once been penne with cheese into his mouth.

* * *

Jango is arguing with a surly Boba when Cody comes home, Rex with Anakin in tow. Ben, however, hovers awkwardly on the doorstep until Cody forcibly drags him in by his sleeve.

"I really need to get back," Ben stutters, and Cody suddenly remembers his fear of Jango and Boba, "My parents are expecting me-"

"I thought they were on a business trip?" Cody asks. "Come on, stay here for a bit."

Ben looks torn. Cody waits patiently as Anakin turns around and makes puppy eyes at his older brother.

"Anakin _can_ stay for the weekend, right?" he asks for the umpteenth time, "Please. Just this once, please."

This isn't the first time, and it won’t be the last. Ben knows it. Cody knows too, even if he doesn't quite get the _why_.

The whole thing doesn't seem to really matter in any significant way but Jango's face has started developing a thoughtful, almost suspicious, look whenever Ben makes the request, which is always on a Friday, always when their parents (that none of the Fetts have ever seen) are off on some far-off trip. Which seems pretty innocent: Jango can be extremely paranoid, but his instincts almost always prove right.

Anakin doesn't seem to mind too much, at least.

"Hi Boba!" he yells gleefully, waving at the twenty-three-year-old, but not leaving his brother's side.

Boba snaps his teeth in the kid's direction, smirking.

"Hey, tamaiti," he fishes in his pocket for something and produces a packet of Haribos, "Think fast."

Anakin lunges for the sweets as they come towards him, and catches, surprisingly nimble for a kid his age. 

“Hey, you better save me some for when I get back,” Ben warns him. 

Anakin scoffs. “It's my sweets, I decide what to do with them.”

“Let’s see if Mando and the kid will play with you when they hear you’re so rude to your older brother.” Ben looks at Boba quickly. “Actually, is Mando -”

"’S it Din?" Anakin asks hopefully, big blue eyes turning on Boba as well, "Or Paz? Is Cara here too?"

Boba crosses his arms, the tattoos on them shifting with the muscles under them, and shrugs wordlessly. Jango rolls his eyes.

"Both Mandos are here, actually. Din and Paz are upstairs with the kid," he tells Anakin, "Cara's out. Go run and play, you little brat."

Anakin sticks his tongue out at Jango, before looking up at his older brother. Ben nods, before dropping down and hugging him. Anakin doesn't squirm away, like most kids his age would, but hangs on, whispering something in Ben's ear. He nods, again.

They let go of each other, and Anakin runs off upstairs with one last glance over his shoulder. Rex and Boba follow him, leaving the other three alone in the kitchen.

"I really need to go," Ben says again. He opens his mouth to say something else, but cuts himself off.

Jango hums thoughtfully. Cody raises an eyebrow at his dad. Jango's brows are furrowed and it seems as if he's clocked something but isn't quite sure what.

Cody really wants Ben to stay, but the bare expression of panic on the Ben’s face makes him yield.

"Okay," he gives in reluctantly, "See you on Monday?"

Ben shrugs jerkily; he's practically vibrating as he walks out.

"Bye!" he blurts and almost runs out of the house, door closing soundlessly behind him.

Cody stares at the door for a little too long with a sinking feeling in his chest. His throat feels too tight, heart seizing up.

"I don't like this," Jango declares into the silence.

"Which part?" Cody asks, already knowing the answer.

Jango's expression is grim. "All of it."

There's a clatter and a curse from the corridor and Din sticks his head in. He's wearing a hoodie that's several sizes too big and obviously doesn't belong to him, as well as the shiny gloves and boots that he rarely takes off. 

"How long is Anakin going to stay with us?" 

As always, the question comes out more like a statement. Din Djarin is not one for unnecessary social niceties such as tone of voice.

"Weekend, most likely," Jango replies, "Ben will come round at some point, I think."

He glances questioningly at Cody, who shrugs. Din tilts his head by way of replying, and disappears again.

"How is he sixteen?" Cody mutters, "He acts like an old man."

Jango arches an eyebrow.

"And you're only eighteen, tama."

They fall silent. Muffled thumps and laughter issue from upstairs. 

"Ben's been...off, lately," he starts cautiously, "I'm not sure why. It's not Maul, I'm sure of that."

Jango crosses his arms and leans back, letting out a loud breath.

"I don't know either, tama," he murmurs, "But I really, really don't like it."

* * *

Din is sprawled in the chair with the kid in his lap when Cody pokes his head into the room.

Paz just left, and Anakin is downstairs trying to steal uncooked noodles from the pack, so the three of them are alone in Din's room.

"Dinner's going to be ready soon," Cody tell him, gesturing to the kid.

Din nods, not taking his eyes off the child in his arms. There're a few seconds of silence, before Cody opens his mouth and asks what is probably the most stupid question to ask Din _ever._

"Is that Paz's hoodie?"

Din doesn’t react, poker-faced as always. “Tell them I’ll be down soon.”

The lack of an answer gives him away though, and Cody smiles almost stupidly on his way out. Reason one being that he's always happy for his brother in all but blood, and reason two is that Rex owes him five pounds now.

* * *

Ben turns up at seven in the morning on Saturday.

He's got the keys to the house, so he doesn't wake anyone up by knocking; the Fetts are just early risers. Except Rex, who has to be physically dragged out of bed before he even opens his eyes before 9 AM. 

Boba is throwing darts at a board with a low-resolution photo of Donald Trump's face pinned to it. The darts make a neat circle around his face, with one stray dart in the right eye. On the table there's an equally grainy photo of Boris Johnson, who is evidently next in line. 

Cody, meanwhile, is ignoring Boba's progress at impaling politicians' faces in favour of simultaneously eating cereal, doing his homework and trying not to get milk on said homework. Two sentences and several averted drownings later, he gives up and shoves the paper away in disgust. 

The sound of the key turning in the ancient lock is loud enough to be heard over the radio playing in the corner and the eggs frying. Only two people have that key who aren’t inside the house right now, and one of them’s not coming back, so it has to be Ben. 

The thought suddenly makes the room a little bit brighter.

Boba must know too, smirking knowingly at Cody. It isn’t much better than Rex's usual cackling yell of _"It's your boyfriend!"_ (Rex, as everyone knows, is an immature delinquent.) 

However, the bottle blond bastard is getting his _beauty sleep,_ so there’s only slightly-judgemental silence as Ben slides in on soundless feet.

"Breakfast, Ben?" Jango calls without turning away from the frying pan, delicately shaking spices on the half-made omelette.

"Yes please," Ben grins, which makes the uncovered bruise on his cheek crinkle.

Cody winces reflexively, with a familiar sensation of sharp anger flaring.

Unlike most of their guests, Ben is perfectly fine with the thick layer of spice that always covers anything that Jango cooks. Cody has seen him eat an entire plate of green curry without so much as batting an eyelid, unlike Anakin, who ended up having more milk than actual food that particular night.

Ben makes his way over to the table and sinks into a chair as he pulls out his own politics assignment from the bag he drags around everywhere.

"This one's a bitch, isn't it," Ben mutters as he rummages for a pen, biting on his bottom lip like he always does when he concentrates. Cody is staring a little at this point (only a _little_ ) and Boba nudges him.

Jango raises an eyebrow, somehow catching Cody, Boba, and Ben in the same judgemental stare.

"Be glad Din didn't hear that," he nods towards the next room, where Din’s usually camped out with the kid every morning.

Ben pales a little and Boba laughs.

"He's not that scary."

"Yes he is," Ben stares at the table, "So is every single member of this family, with the exception of the kid, Rex and maybe Cody - when he's in a good mood."

"Is that a backhanded compliment or an insult?" Boba asks at the same time as Cody says: "I'm _always_ in a good mood."

"It's a compliment, don't worry. And I beg to differ."

"Fuck off."

"Ah, friend Cody, there's that sweet, sweet personality that I’ve come to know and love."

Cody opens his mouth, but Jango interrupts him with: "Swearing in different languages is also not allowed.”

Ben mumbles a quiet but heartfelt _fuck._ Jango sets a plate down in front of him with a clunk, smiling threateningly. "I heard that."

Ben makes a small sound in the back of his throat, but he's smiling. "Sod off."

He freezes as soon as he says that; Din has chosen exactly that moment to walk into the kitchen (he's still wearing that blue hoodie). He glares at them all silently, before grabbing two plates and walking back out. 

"Good morning to you too, _loverboy_ ," Cody calls after him.

Boba snorts very quietly, and Jango’s eyes crinkle a bit, betraying his amusement. Ben's lips twitch up at the corners and he makes a futile grab for Cody's assignment - Jango takes it just out of his reach making Ben scrabble after it exaggeratedly before giving up with a huff as Jango deposits it on the counter.

"Food first, _then_ work."

Ben looks a little sheepish. A wide beam of sunlight falls across his eyes as he leans forward, making him squint, and illuminating the little of his irises that are visible into a bright sea-blue. His hair is lightened too, a reddish halo around his head. The sight makes Cody's breath catch in his throat, and he only just manages to tear his eyes away.

His chest hurts when Ben smiles obliviously at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tamaiti - kid [Maori]  
> tama - son [Maori]  
> (I have fully embraced the Scottish Obi-Wan and Maori clones headcanon)
> 
> Hoo boy. Another WIP you say? Yes, I answer shamelessly.  
> This one is gonna be a monster - longer than any of my other works, at least, but one that is well on the way to completion as I seem to have stuck in this fandom for good. I already have nearly three chapters written, but the latter two are awaiting my cranky knight in shining armour, otherwise known as my beta. Next few chapters should be up in the next couple of weeks, somewhere between now my Statistics GCSE mock.  
> Stick around lads! Thanks for reading :)


	2. like neon behind the glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be doling out these already written chapters like breadcrumbs while I complete the rest of the fic. Stay tuned! 
> 
> Thanks so much to y'all for the love and support I really appreciate it :) djslldsl love you guys.

> _And so it seems I must always write you letters that I can never send_
> 
> -Sylvia Plath

"Pablo Neruda." Ben says suddenly, pausing over his annotations.

Cody just sighs. "Poetry?" 

Ben nods, eyes distant and lit up with a sort of wistfulness.

"'We must sit on the rim of the well of darkness and fish for fallen light with patience.'" he quotes, staring at Cody’s shoulder, although Cody gets the feeling he’s looking at something entirely different.

Cody hums, encouraging.

Ben closes his eyes and leans on his palm. His other hand is twirling a pencil. "Sylvia Plath, too."

"Didn't she commit suicide?" 

Ben smiles, a little sad; his eyes are still closed.

"She did." He frowns a little. "Have you read the poem _Mirror_ by her?"

"We might have done it in year eight."

Ben tuts. 

"You were twelve then," he opens his eyes to slits, "And although you were very mature for your age, unlike a _certain someone_ we both know, I don't think the full meaning came across."

Bail, who's sitting with them and frantically studying for something or other, makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like _shut the fuck up._

Ben looks mildly affronted and glares at the taller teenager before turning back to Cody.

"I'll explain later?" he offers.

Cody nods, flashing a smile before going back to his psychology essay. Beside him, Bail is chanting _shit, shit, shit_ under his breath. 

* * *

"Who the fuck invented A-levels?" Cody asks as he glares balefully at the computer screen, where his application and predicted grades are neatly printed in a Microsoft Word document, "And just. Seriously. You're thinking of going to _Oxford_?"

Ben makes a non-committal sound from where he's lounging on Cody's bed, _The Canterbury Tales_ in one hand and a pink highlighter in the other.

"You _traitor_ ," Cody exclaims. "What did Cambridge ever do to you?"

Ben stares at him with doleful eyes and an exaggerated pout.

"Nothing," he pauses thoughtfully, but his lips twitch up, "I just like to keep my options _open,_ you know?"

"Twat," Cody mutters.

Ben laughs, bright and musical.

His hair is growing out, Cody notices. It's beginning to flop over his eyes and stick out in a sort of quiff in the back.

He looks like an idiot... and also maybe ridiculously attractive.

"Cambridge is my first choice," he grins, waving the highlighter around, as if to support his point, "Not only because I am a _Cantabrigian_ to the core but also because of my _fantastic_ and _promising_ grades-"

"Can we not go there?"

"Says the one with a bunch of As. Besides, you're the only one who's gonna apply for Criminology, you nerd. They can hardly _not_ accept you."

"This is _Cambridge._ "

Ben wrinkles his nose. "Surprisingly, you have a point.”

Cody raises his eyebrows. “Surprisingly?”

Ben hums noncommittally. “Bunch of posh wankers, aren’t they?” 

"Takes one to know one.”

Ben narrows his eyes and wordlessly jabs the highlighter in Cody’s direction. 

“Aw, you’re just upset ‘cause you know it’s true,” Cody teases. 

The highlighter hits his cheek, hard. He catches it before it rebounds into his mug of coffee.

"Bastard," he grumbles and goes back to his application form.

Ben chuckles.

"They'll accept you, Cody." 

"I doubt it."

"The worst thing that can happen is you'll get thrown into the winter pool."

"Which would be _humiliating_."

"No, because it won't happen."

Cody deletes the last paragraph and reaches for his coffee.

"I hate this," he mumbles to the dregs at the bottom of the mug, "I want to sleep."

The bed creaks as Ben sits up.

"You are allowed to take breaks, you realise," he sounds amused, but Cody can hear the underlying concern in his voice.

"Maybe later."

"I'll sic Jango on you," Ben threatens.

The cursor flashes forlornly on his laptop screen.

Cody sighs, loudly. 

"Fine," he spins round to face Ben, who's sprawled out on the covers (Cody shoves several trains of thought off of the rails,) "but only for a few minutes _._ "

Ben grins, unrepentant, and pats the empty space next to him. Cody gets up, wincing as his joints and back crack ominously. 

“Old man.” Ben grins. 

Cody flops down on top of Ben’s hand. Ben yelps and attempts to get his arm out, but that just makes Cody lose his balance and fall half on top of him. Ben shoves him off, wriggling to the side, but Cody uses his greater build and weight to pin him down by the wrists. 

"Do you yield?" Cody smirks.

Ben's eyes widen, and he's panting a little and they're _so close-_

Cody abruptly leans back, feeling his throat close up and his heart beat impossibly quick.

Ben blinks, eyes shuttering as Cody climbs awkwardly off of him.

"I could still hand your arse to you on a platter," Ben mumbles, but it sounds a little half-hearted.

Cody goes along with it and tries to grin, feeling the skin around his eyes stretch a little too tight for it to be real.

"Nah," he drawls, "A in Physics, remember? I have a larger mass which means I have a larger force so-"

"Oh shut up," Ben retorts, finding another highlighter (yellow this time) and throwing it at him.

Cody ducks just in time and it flies past, landing with a clatter on the floor.

"Your aim is shit," he states, staring at it. "Y’know, if you had calculated the _acceleration-_ "

"Oh my _god_ , we get it, you’re a _nerd_." Ben cuts him off. "Get back to criminology-ing, you... criminologer.”

“Actually, it’s criminologist.”

Ben pretends to gag. 

Cody smirks. Ben makes an _I'm watching you_ gesture that turns into a backwards _V._ Cody flips him off in retaliation.

"You can't watch me if your sight is so shit you can't aim."

Ben glares at him.

"Should've gone to Specsavers." Cody sing-songs.

"Excuse you, Boots is _so_ much better than Specsavers."

"Is that where you buy your hair dye?"

"I am not a ginger by _choice,_ Cody!" Ben splutters, making Cody laugh.

With that, the tension eases, but Cody can't shake the feeling that a glimmer of hope is gone from Ben's eyes.

* * *

Ben sprints almost all the way back home. His reversed backpack knocks against his chest, making him wheeze.

He slows down when he reaches his own street, inhaling harshly through his nose in an attempt to control his breathing. He can see that both cars are still parked in front of the house; his heartbeat picks up. 

Anakin's at the Fetts’. For the evening at least.

The bruise on his side throbs sullenly, dull against his burning lungs and throat.

He gulps in air and resists the urge to run away. 

Anakin is safe with the Fetts, though. Overprotectiveness runs in the family. Rex is incredibly attached to Anakin, and Cody is just remarkable- remarkably caring. 

He fights off the smile that inexplicably appears on his face every time he thinks of Cody. Cody Fett is definitely one of the best things in Ben's life.

If Ben’s honest, though, Cody’s not competing with much. 

He takes a deep breath, hands shaking a little as he unlocks the door, and steps inside.

* * *

Ben was adopted at a young age, so he never really felt _settled_ , per se.

But he knows that the people he does have will never let him go. Maybe. Hopefully.

First, before everyone else (before Cody and before Anakin) there was Quinlan Vos.

They've known each other since they were children. His first memory of Quinlan is hazy and tinted a sort of soft autumn ochre, like so many other happier memories. Somewhat unsurprisingly, it's of Quin hanging upside down on the monkey bars in the park, dreadlocks swinging behind his head as he grins snaggletoothed at Ben.

They've stuck to each other ever since then. They were never particularly _close_ or anything. Nonetheless, Quinlan Vos and Obi-Wan Kenobi were more or less a sure thing.

The whole... _thing_ between them started only a few years ago, when they were fifteen and Quin had asked him, with that lopsided, charming grin of his, if he wanted to go on a date.

Cody's face had flashed before his eyes, but he'd said yes. He knew that Quinlan knew - the dating, really, was just a formality for what they had, and one they never bothered to tell anyone else. Cody, however, has definitely guessed and Ben can tell he doesn't approve, but it hasn't changed much in their relationship. He's just a little cold to Quin now, which is unfair and something he's going to have to bring up at some point. 

Then there's Bail, too. Bail with his swishy fashion sense and elegant girlfriend Breha. Ben tripped over Bail's ridiculously long legs while picking his way through to his own seat in Politics, and the rest is history.

But Cody is a whole different story.

Ben mostly categorises his life in two different ways: BC and AC (Before and After Cody), and BA and AA (Before and After Anakin).

He doesn't want to know where he'd be without them.

His ribs throb, a dull but gnawing pain. Anakin is nestled into his other side, his good side, the one that isn't covered in blotchy purple bruises. He's done a decent job of patching himself up, but sometimes it feels like he's just one giant ball of angst and pain. The medical supplies sitting on the sink of the en suite that he's reminded of not only when he uses them (once a week, roughly) but every time he's in the damn place doesn't help.

He'll need to restock soon. But that requires going to the nearest supermarket, which means either trekking all the way to the big shopping centre near the Grafton, cycling to Cambridge when he finally does run out, slogging it to Camborne to get to Morrisons, or scrounging some off Boba.

Almost all of the above requires money, and acquiring that is a delicate operation in itself.

The yelling echoes in his ears, ugly grey and mottled. Dripping alcohol and blood. The stink of it is psychosomatic, he tells himself. Or maybe he's just going crazy.

He hopes, for Anakin's sake, that it's not the latter.

It could be worse, though. He's seen the scars on Din's back, was there when he had stumbled into the Fetts' living room, Paz trailing behind him like a guard dog. He's heard the screams.

Suddenly, the air seems stifling and he has to get _out_. Anakin is sound asleep, snuffling softly into the pillow.

Ben brushes back a lock of hair from his brother's forehead and gets up. His pyjamas are in the laundry basket, stained with blood and what he thinks is whiskey but could be cognac for all he knows, so he's wearing jeans and what is probably Quinlan's old t-shirt. 

Sighing, he snags his phone off the bedside table and stuffs it into his pocket. His hands are trembling as he fumbles his way outside, before sinking down onto his knees on the grass of their unkempt lawn. He coughs out a breath. 

Ben knows where he needs to go.

* * *

Din's facial expression hasn't changed, but Cody can tell that he's worried. The kitchen is usually empty at this time of night. Cody just came down for a glass of water, only to find Din sitting at the table, staring at the wall.

"What is it?” He sets the drained glass down on the counter.

Din doesn't say anything; his eyes flick up to Cody's face and then back to the wall.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cody offers softly, drawing back a chair and sitting down next to him.

Din shakes his head mutely.

Cody swallows, opens his mouth, then closes it. 

They sit there, side by side, and stare at the wall until there's a soft noise and Din startles.

"Hey kiddo," he mumbles thickly.

Din hefts the toddler into his arms, smiling softly as he coos and snuggles closer. 

Cody gets up quietly, not wanting to intrude, and closes the door behind him.

He really wishes Ben were here. He's not _really_ sure how he actually met Ben, but ever since then, it's almost like Ben takes a little bit of Cody with him when he leaves. 

He thinks they officially met when he tripped over Ben sometime in Year 1. Maybe later, maybe earlier. He could ask Ben, who probably remembers, but he almost likes the uncertainty. Furthermore, there's always been a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that he and Ben are something _more,_ in a way, that they’ve always known each other, that their relationship goes deeper than coincidence. Something tinted gold and flying high above all else. It's almost funny, when he remembers that earliest memory.

_"I wanna be the first person on Mars!" Cody yells, standing on the wooden train and waving his arms. Next to him, Rex scoffs._

_“There already_ are _people on Mars."_

_“No!” Cody glares at his twin. Rex looks unrepentant, and sticks his tongue out._

_“Yeah.”_

_"No there aren’t!" Cody protests and feels indignant tears beginning to well in his eyes. He jumps angrily off the edge and trips over another kid, sprawling onto the tarmac in the process. The boy, who'd been sitting silently with his arms wrapped around his legs, tucked up under his chin, springs up and rushes over to him, awkwardly poking him and asking him if he's alright._

_Even though Rex is making his escape, clambering off the train and running off, he doesn't give chase, although he does shoot Rex a glare._

_Cody notices that the other boy is close to crying. "‘M fine."_

_The boy calms down a little but continues to give him little pokes and nudges, mumbling apologies under his breath._

_"What's your name?" Cody asks suddenly, interrupting the boy’s muttering._

_The other kid blinks, expression a little surprised._

_"Obi-Wan," he smiles tentatively, "But mostly people call me Ben."_

_Cody grins and sticks his hand out, like Dad did when they met the teachers._

_"I'm Cody."_

_Ben stares at the offered hand, and gives him an awkwardly positioned high five._

_They sit side by side but don't really talk. Ben seems quiet and Cody doesn't talk much anyway, save for the odd outburst._

_He likes the quiet._

_Rex stumbles up to them, panting from his lap around the playground._

_"You're so boring," he whines, flopping down next to Cody. He eyes Ben. "Who're you?"_

_Cody cuts in. "He’s Ben."_

_"I'm Rex, nice to meetcha," he exclaims, and pushes Cody sideways, into Ben._

_The smaller boy squeaks and wriggles out from under them, wrinkling his nose._

_"You're just like Quinlan." he mutters._

_Rex perks up. "Oh, oh, ‘s he the one with the cool hair?"_

_Ben nods and opens his mouth just as the said kid descends on them._

_"Ben!" he yells loudly, dreadlocks swinging in front of his eyes as he throws himself down next to them, "Who're your new friends?"_

_"_ That’s _Cody," Ben points emphatically at Cody, "and_ that’s _Rex."_

_Quinlan squints at them._

_"How're you gonna tell them apart?" he asks, looking genuinely concerned._

_"Cody's nice, Rex is weird," Ben replies easily._

_"Hey!" Rex wails, "I'm nice! Nicer than_ you _."_

_Cody glares at him._

_"Are not."_

_"Are too!"_

_“‘S'not gram-“ Ben starts._

_Cody interrupts Ben. "Are not!"_

_They argue for the rest of lunch, until the teachers call them in to line up. Once they get inside, they sit together; while Rex and Cody bicker, Quin and Ben whisper between themselves. Eventually, Rex huffs angrily and sits in sullen, sulky silence._

_Cody sighs and turns to Ben. The other boy smiles and Cody feels his heart beat… not faster, maybe, but stronger._

Ben still has that same effect on him. It doesn't matter that Ben and Quinlan have their… thing, it doesn't matter that Cody's throat closes every time he sees them together. He is, has always been and always will be, Ben's.

He startles out of his reverie to find that he's already in his bedroom. He strips off his shirt, collapses onto his bed with a sigh and tries to sleep again. 

It's too hot in his room for September ( _global warming,_ his mind helpfully supplies. Or maybe his radiator is broken and he's being dramatic) so his window is open, letting cool air circulate inside the stuffy room. The curtains flutter softly; the blinds are still up, since he can't be bothered to lower them, so the curtains glow a faint orange colour from the streetlamps outside. In the distance, even at this time of night, cars rumble along the motorway. 

He sighs and wriggles a little, the blanket thrown over the top half of his body but legs exposed. The pillow is too warm against his cheek. Growling a little, he sits up and flips it over - he's about to lie back down when something flashes in the corner of his eye.

He lunges for his phone, glad to have a distraction, and unlocks it.

 **_General_ **: i may or may not be outside your house 

**_General_ **: youre probably not awake 

**_General_ **: sorry 

Cody feels the side of his mouth tick up even through his panic at _Ben_ being awake too and _outside their bloody house._

 **_Me:_ **Do u want to come in or should I go out?

There's a moment's pause.

 **_General_ **: you can see the stars p clearly

Cody grins; he can't help it. _Goddamn idiot._ He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up, pulling on a shirt as he does so. He manages to find a pair of slightly dirty jeans and pulls them on, not bothering with socks. He grabs a hoodie and his phone and quietly makes his way downstairs again. Din is no longer in the kitchen, judging by the darkness, so he goes through that way, through the back door and out into the garden.

Ben is leaning against the wooden fence, hands in his pockets and the moonlight shining off of his ridiculously pale face. This side of the house doesn't have any streetlamps, so none of the orange light contaminates the air. Cody blows out a breath carefully, watching his breath steam a little in an ephemeral cloud.

"Sorry for waking you up," Ben says as he gets closer. He's shivering a little, eyes flickering. 

"Couldn't sleep," he gestures towards the smaller teen, "Cold?"

Ben shakes his head.

"Just a little twitchy today."

Cody hums, jostling his shoulder, making Ben smile and butt the side of Cody's head. It's an old ritual, one so old he's not quite sure when it started; maybe when they were still young kids, still in primary school, running around the playground and hooting at the horses standing beyond the wire mesh. Or perhaps it was later, standing side by side in a big, foreign school, other students milling around them impatiently.

Ben was right, though. The stars, albeit a little dim in the not-quite-countryside, shine clearly. 

"I can see Orion," Ben points in the constellation's general direction, "And I think that's Cancer."

Cody hums, and nods in a vague direction. "Big Dipper."

Ben smiles. A breeze blows gently around them and Cody feels the edge of the fence start to become a little uncomfortable. He slides down, onto the frosty grass, which is cold and hard, but better than being skewered on the fence. Ben sighs and follows him, flopping down with a soft, slightly pained _oof_ and a grimace before settling down and leaning into Cody. 

"Odd air tonight." Cody puffs out another translucent cloud. “Bit cold. Bit magical. Don’tcha think?" 

Ben nods. "Yeah, maybe. I'm not sure if I believe in magic, though.” 

Cody punches him lightly. "You know what I mean.”

"Yeah, I do." He shifts a little, and Cody can still feel him shivering, "I feel like something’s about to change."

The silence is comfortable; Cody understands and knows that Ben knows he understands. They've always had that link.

"Change is always going on. Maybe the only reason you noticed it tonight is because you’re paying attention." Cody lets his gaze wander over a myriad of burning points of light, each containing the possibility of new worlds. He thinks about those time lapses of night skies, of stars engraving white paths across the heavens, and wonders if he could see it, if he sat here long enough. If the world would grow around him, white mushrooms forming winding Milky Ways around him as he stared, unblinking, at the cosmos. 

“Yeah. Change.” Cody suddenly realises that Ben is staring at him. He thinks about crossing that final line, how easy it would be to lean in-

"Put this on." Is what comes out instead. Cody shoves his hoodie off and holds it out. 

Ben stares at it with wide eyes and pushes it back.

"You'll get cold, Cody."

Cody snorts dismissively. "Whose house are we outside? Besides, I don’t get cold easily. Put it on."

Ben reluctantly takes it. He struggles to get it over his head but manages eventually. Since Cody's stockier and taller, the hoodie is far too large on Ben, pooling around his thighs, the sleeves too long. 

"Thanks." Ben mumbles, a little sarcastic, from somewhere within the hood. It's hanging like a cowl over his face and Cody chuckles and pulls it down further. Ben squawks indignantly and bats him away for long enough to throw the hood back, revealing a genuine smile and glittering eyes. 


	3. this is how it ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello to all of ye. thank you so much for sticking with this story - and i'm sorry for posting this chapter later than i perhaps should have. it was finished about a month ago but i put it off, wanting to give myself more time to finish the fic, but then my family life went to absolute shit and my mental health went with it. so chapter four maybe a little later and shorter than the previous chapters. i _do_ have more time, what with the quarantine (no school! though i am a little pissed that i'm a year too young to have missed all my exams...), but we'll see. nonetheless, thank you so much for your support of this endeavour. much love to all of you!
> 
> as always, thanks to my beta/best friend the fish quing fin, also known as charles, nugget, brian, and many more loving nicknames. thank you so much, darling! credit for most of the inappropriate jokes and the "my arse" pun goes to them. also thanks to my lovely partner satan, without whom i would be hiding under my bed somewhere and vibing with the spiders there.  
> apologies for the prattle, and i hope you enjoy...as much as you can...

Din doesn't remember much of his childhood.

He thinks it’s because he doesn't  _ want  _ to remember. He shut it out, along with everything else, when the Mandalorians took him in. He closed himself off, wore his hoodies with the hood over his face, a helmet that he never took off in front of anyone else. In the mirror his face is blank, and about as readable as a sheet of steel.

He prefers it that way. When they assigned Paz Vizla to him, he wanted to curl up and hide from that charming sneer, set like his own blank expression (that’s the way of Mandalorians, after all,) wanted to run away from the kid, who's built like a brick wall and is about as dense. Din is still small and lean compared to Paz, and he can't help but feel threatened; it makes his hackles rise, keeps his defences up. 

Nonetheless, they manage to more or less get along. Paz, although he’s aggressive and high-strung, has a rigid moral code that Din can depend on to be predictable. 

They never really give him a name. Din doesn’t say anything when he’s asked about it; nobody else has anything to say. Really, though, Din’s afraid of getting too attached, although that ship sailed a long, long time ago. 

The kid is still, at least sometimes, the last shred of hope in Din's life. Even when the Fetts sit in silent support beside him, even when Paz is sprawled on top of the covers, head hanging off the bed and a challenging glint in his eyes. Even when Cara wipes the floor with his sorry arse during training; even when they’re almost a family, Paz mechanically beating the shit out of a punching bag as he whistles a cheerful melody, Organa rolling his eyes at Ben and Cody’s oblivious flirting, even harder when Vos bothers them for his own entertainment, with Anakin and Rex goofing off in a corner. Tony is sometimes there too, tense and a little drunk, faded bruises in the shape of fingerprints dotting his arms. (Din doesn’t ask; his answer wouldn’t matter anyway.)

But in the end, it always just boils down to the kid. Din can’t think of anything he wouldn’t do to ensure the kid’s safety. 

But for now, they're safe here. The kid is asleep in his cot, and Paz is snoring very quietly into Din's shoulder, one arm slung across Din's chest and the other tucked under the pillow. His aquiline features are sharpened by the filtered evening sunlight.

Din cranes his neck to see the clock on his desk, which reads  _ 19:12 _ . In the room next to his, he can hear the muffled sounds of Cody and Ben bickering good-naturedly. 

He lets himself relax, tucking his nose into Paz's hair, which smells like that sandalwood shampoo; the one Din uses now, too. 

In the quiet of the evening, listening to the birds whistling and chirping outside, feeling Paz's chest expand and contract against his own, as he alternates between making sure that the kid is still asleep and watching how the golden light frames Paz's face in that Renaissance-painting sort of way, Din admits to himself that maybe life here isn't bad. He thinks, haltingly, that maybe he's in love with the boy drooling into his t-shirt. 

Din’s stuck fast, but maybe that’s not a bad thing anymore. 

* * *

Paz is late.

That in itself is not an uncommon occurrence, so Din huffs out a breath and resists the urge to check the time. Around him, people bustle, mostly students with bags under their eyes, the Costa Café’s most frequent customers. The barista keeps glancing at him in a different way than he’s used to, making him slightly uncomfortable. She's new, that much is clear. The usual barista here knows him well, if not by name. She did stare at him oddly the first few times, but it was more a sort of morbid curiosity than anything. Din can feel this one’s eyes on his back, hot and - well, probably not really predatory, but Din  _ really _ doesn’t like it when people look at him like that. 

Din taps his fingers on the table, a barely-there groove in the shape of his finger pads on the sturdy wood. Din likes this spot. It’s good for people watching, and has the comfiest seats in the café. 

He stills his fingers. 

Before he can think too much about it, Paz drops into the seat opposite him, setting his bag down with an audible  _ thunk  _ on the floor.

"You're late."

Paz grimaces and grips Din's hand. Din retracts his hand, but nods.  _ Go on.  _

"Sorry," Paz says, "I had to run some errands, which were supposed to be quick but the cashier at Morrison’s is really judgemental and -"

Din sips his coffee, half-listening to the long-winded, loud story. It’s almost better when Paz is late, telling a meandering, odd tale full of him picking useless fights and general absurdity, the entire thing so inane that it must be true. 

Paz snorts, a smile lighting up his features. His eyes flicker, assessing, the reflection of the autumn sun slightly misshapen on umber irises. 

"The barista is looking," Paz's expression is amused, lips quirked, "I hope she hasn't got any plans - hold on."

Din waits. Paz’s expression turns into a full-on smirk, his spiky, cropped hair (now that Din thinks about it, it's similar to the hideous almost-buzz-cut that Ben’s sporting) making him look even more like some sort of aristocratic skinhead.

"Nevermind." Paz leans back, stretching languidly. Din can't help but track the way his biceps flex, jealousy and something else curling in his chest. "You gonna be at my arse tonight?"

The barista almost drops a cup full of boiling hot coffee. Serves her right to eavesdrop, Din thinks. It’s not worth the smug expression on Paz’s face, though. 

Din glares at him and takes a silent, judgemental sip of his coffee. It scalds his tongue but he doesn't really care.  


Paz's smirk widens, impossibly.

* * *

The Jedi: Mixed Martial and Yogic Arts and Respiratory System Endurance Club, affectionately known as MY ARSE Club, is a surprisingly elegant place. 

The building is in the Newnham area, and the structure dates back to somewhere in the Victorian era. Half the original internal architecture were knocked down to create a huge, vaulted space; the rest of the house was turned into changing rooms and quarters for the Masters. 

When Din gets there, most of the group is already practising. Rex, Cody and Paz, as well as Tony, box, and they usually finish just before the karate session starts, but the trio often loiter around to watch.

Din breathes in a shaky breath. The kid's at home, safe with Jango and Boba. He can be here. 

"Someone take the second stick away from him!" 

Din rolls his eyes and turns around to see Rex goggling at Ben, who's somehow gotten a second bō staff, and is wielding both of them in a way that would certainly take out anyone in a metre radius.

"Let him have it!" Comes Cody's voice from somewhere in the gallery. When he comes into the room, Ben blinks and falters, the staffs clacking together and then falling to the floor. Ben is hissing and cradling his hand, which must have been caught up in between the bō staffs. Din sidles up to him and picks up one of the two, silently glaring at Rex, who hoots in anticipation.  


Ben grins and snatches up the other one, reaching up to drag a hand through his hair - not that there's much of it to fix, but Din assumes it's a habit from when he had that floppy monstrosity on his head. Not that this cut is much better. He and Paz seem to be going for the skinhead look.  


"Hey there, Mando _ , _ ” he says teasingly, twirling the bō in his right hand, and assuming a defensive stance.  Bloody typical.

Din waits patiently for Ben to make the first move, perfectly still. 

Someone wolf-whistles, and Din is willing to bet quite a bit of money that it's either Rex or Quinlan. Not that he has much money to bet with; he bought the kid a toy frog yesterday (he doesn’t regret it, despite the saliva he has to wipe off every ten minutes.)

He can't see Paz but he knows the other boy is there behind him, not making a sound. They may not be "Jedis", but Mandalorians do have a fighting code: stay silent, and let your opponent try to strike first. And, of course, jump in if your fellow Mandalorian needs a hand, but that won’t be necessary here. Probably.

Din turns around to nod at Paz, and Paz nods back, smiling faintly.  _ This is the way.  _ You can take the Mandalorian out of the Convent, but you can't take the Convent out of the Mandalorian.

Something warm unfurls in his chest and he can't quite keep the small smile off his face; Ben winks at him and attacks.

Din manages to block the blow, but he's a little off, dragged out of his thoughts too quickly. He looks at Ben, breathes into the rhythm of the fight, and strikes. 

Five minutes later, he sweeps Ben's legs out from under him, and Ben comes crashing down to the floor with a too-loud cry of pain.

Din stands stock still, staff slipping out of his hands, as everything plays out in slow motion: Cody yelling in concern as he rushes over, Quinlan right behind him, Ben clutching his side as he sits up, and,suddenly Ben's eyes widen, stammering excuses as he all but runs for the door.

It slams shut, leaving only deafening silence. Din moves soundlessly to pick up his staff. 

"What the fuck was that?" Rex asks hoarsely.

Cody shrugs, staring, face slack with shock, at the door.

"I don't like it." He mutters quietly under his breath, then louder: "Din, you alright?"

Din nods, and he feels Paz brush against his shoulder as he follows Din to put Ben’s staff away. Din jostles him a little, and Paz pushes back, before striding with his longer legs in front of Din. He lets out a breath, and catches up with Paz. 

Cody glances at him, all-too-knowingly, before he turns away and walks out of the door.

* * *

Cody finds Ben sitting on the grass beside Queen's Road, staring at the gates of Claire College.  The evening is slightly chilly, and they're both wearing tracksuit bottoms and t-shirts, which are ideal for neither the weather nor sitting on damp grass breathing in exhaust fumes.

"Ben," he calls as he jogs closer, "You okay?"

Ben shrugs, hand tapping a twitchy rhythm against his chest. A couple of passers-by look sideways at them as Cody comes to a halt next to him. He fidgets for a second, unsure. 

"You should probably get off the grass," he manages, holding his hand out, "Can't imagine the amount of shit on it."

Ben shrugs again, but takes Cody's hand and allows himself to be hauled to his feet, stumbling a little into him. Cody counts this as a win. 

"Come on," he murmurs, gently guiding Ben back in the general direction of the club, "Let's get back to my arse."

Cody winks at Ben awkwardly, but Ben’s expression stays blank. Cody’s small smile falters. 

They slowly make their way back to the club. The bypass the hall, instead going straight for the changing rooms, where Cody sits Ben down and then perches on the bench opposite him.

"You wanna take a shower?" he asks, nodding at the stalls in the corner of the room. "Might help."

Ben doesn't answer.

"Ben."

The smaller boy jerks, eyes widening as he flies upright, then flails downwards, onto the floor. "What?"

Cody sighs and slides off the bench to sit beside Ben.

"You really are out of it." Cody ruffles Ben’s hair, eyebrows creased. "Would you like to take a shower?"

"Oh. Right." Ben wrinkles his nose. "No thanks."

"Shall we wait for the others then?" Cody glances at the clock on the wall, "About an hour ‘til they're done. We could go back to the training room."

Ben smiles sheepishly and his ridiculously blue eyes stare up into Cody's.

"Could we maybe," he coughs, "Go home?"

"Our place?"

Ben rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Yours, yeah."

Cody smiles.

Ten minutes later, they're making their way down Grange Road, bags slung over their shoulders, heading towards the bus station on Barton Road.

"The next eighteen bus is in ten minutes right?"

Cody nods, sidestepping an overgrown rose bush and promptly tripping over a pile of conkers. Ben laughs at him as he curses loudly, scaring off an old lady who's making her way down the other side of the pavement.

"You sick bastard," Cody mutters.

Ben only laughs harder. He's still a little jumpy and off-kilter, but looking at the way his eyes are crinkling in the way they only do when he’s properly amused, Cody finds he‘s okay with that.

"You haven't seen Quinlan when-"

Cody comes to a halt. His brain does too and the words tumble out of his mouth before he can get a lid on them.

"What does he have to do with this?" he snaps, turning on Ben, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. “We were having such a great time, and you bring  _ him _ up?”

Ben stares at him in something like shock. “What’s wrong with Quin?”

Cody flinches, though at what, he’s not sure. “Nothing, it’s just - you talk about him all the time.”

"When was the last time I mentioned him?" Ben’s starting to look skeptical. 

"Are you - literally  _ just now _ ," Cody all but yells. “And now he’s the entire conversation!” 

Cody’s off-kilter now, losing his balance amongst the broiling sea of his mind, muddled and mixed-up and  _ mad.  _ He's angry, irrationally so, stupidly so, and it's all because of Ben and his stupid smile and his stupid blue eyes and his perfect fucking Ben-ness. 

Ben stares at him, opens his mouth, closes it and then says, voice trembling with something like disappointment and anger, “That’s not exactly my fault, is it?”

Cody glares at Ben. “Isn’t it? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Noticed what-” Ben gives up the pretense. "Look, this isn’t how I wanted this to go, alright?"

Cody's chest feels tight and he sees red.

"So you  _ are _ shagging." The word is crude and tastes vile, and he feels viciously satisfied as Ben flinches.

The feeling fades awfully quickly as Ben draws himself up to his full height, fists balled.

"Gonna punch me?" Cody taunts. The little green monster crawls up his throat.

Ben looks at him in disgust and turns to storm off.

"Back to  _ Quin? _ " Cody calls after him, feeling a liquid _something_ that's distinctly more odious gather in the back of his mouth. 

Ben doesn't answer.

Cody spins on his heel and stalks towards the bus station, fuming. He wants to drag Ben back and hold him, breathe endless apologies into his soft hair, keep him protected in Cody’s and never let go.

But Ben isn't his. Ben and Quin are-

All of a sudden, the rage melts away, replaced by a frigid downpour of guilt.

He stews the whole ride back to the village, the bus trundling along last Grantchester and through several roundabouts, past the bright, streaking lights of the M11. He gets off at Barton and walks the rest of the way, the interior of the double decker far too stifling. When he gets home, Jango arches an eyebrow and silently draws back a chair.

It doesn’t take long for Cody to blurt out the whole story.

Jango hums absently, looking him in the eye.

"Let me tell you something, tama," he pauses, expression thoughtful, "I know what it feels like. It's not your fault, but what you can control is what you do with it, and how you act.” He leans forward at that, staring at Cody hard. “Because if you don’t control yourself, you might end up hurting someone. And it sounds like that’s just what you’ve done."

Cody rubs his eyes and mumbles, "Yeah."

"Go apologise to him tomorrow.” Jango smiles finally, reaching over to rub Cody’s knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “You really messed up this time, Cody.” Cody nods, ducking his head. “But I’m sure he'll forgive you. You kids were never meant to be separate."

Cody withdraws his hand, feeling more settled, and determined. He slips upstairs without any more fanfare. 

When they come into school the next day, Ben speaks to him so politely and horribly, in such a tortuous, civil way, which continues until Politics. Then,  Ben’s quietly and emphatically cursing out Ms. Jenkins to Bail, and Bail smothers his chuckles. Ben gently shoves the taller, but at Ms. Jenkins’ narrow-eyed glance, they quiet down and do the bullshit exercise that inspired Ben’s stream of profanity. 

Cody leans over, trying to be subtle. "I'm sorry. For, um. Yesterday. That was shit of me. I was just -” Cody closes his mouth, trying to find the words. 

Ben stares at Cody coldly. Cody feels his face burn, and something inside him shrivels up.

"You were just  _ what _ , exactly?" he snaps, "Pray tell, Cody."

Every word is a barb, hooking into his skin. Cody winces.

"I don't really know," he rubs the back of his neck, staring at the table, "I'm sorry. It was wrong, and stupid, and cruel, and you didn't deserve it."

Ben sighs, and Cody feels guilty for taking advantage of Ben's endless compassion, his endless, unfair, self-fucking-sacrificial compassion. He watches all the fight drain out of Ben.

"Apology accepted," Ben says. "But that doesn't mean you can say shit like that."

Bail looks between them and busies himself with his work, humming a little under his breath.

"I know, I'm sorry." 

Ben smiles, like the sun cresting the waves of stormy clouds, and gently headbutts him, a gesture so fond and familiar that Cody almost cries in relief.

"It's okay." 


	4. better run, better run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'wow, imagine being a useless gay. #can'trelate' - my beta  
> sorry that this chapter is slightly shorter than usual, but I have been very carried away by, uh, other projects. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!  
> p.s. students studying at the university of Cambridge (UK) start term in October. My brother complains about the abnormal amounts of wine they drink too (he's a teetotaller), even thought he's, well, a cambridge student. So anything said in this fic about cambridge and its inhabitants' habits is all true. :)

> _The night fell slowly on our glory days  
>  I lie awake to see you fade away  
> You're lost without a trace_

"It’s _October_ . Why are there so many fucking tourists, and how are all the university students _already drunk_. It’s barely noon and they started uni like two days ago!"

"Rex," Bail says mildly from where he's perched on the end of the bench, legs delicately folded under him, "The university students are _always_ drunk. This is Cambridge, what did you expect?"

Quinlan snorts and kicks him. "Harsh, Organa."

"It's the truth, Vos."

Jesus Green is indeed abnormally full of students at this time of day. Most of them are clutching bottles of wine in one hand, some with arms slung around friends, some with books in the other hand; Cody wonders if he’ll mirror them in a few years’ time, with alcohol and eye bags galore. Some of the students, however, are tucked under the huge London plane trees that line the path, dotting the expanse of grass. They're reading, or chatting, some of them sprawled out and staring at the sky, gesturing expansively, as if explaining something, and Cody can certainly imagine Ben among them. 

Ben himself is, however, conspicuously absent today. Urgent work that he "forgot" about. 

Sighing, Cody tunes back into the conversation. Bail is being his usual polite, sadistic self while Rex and Vos annoy each other.

"Oh my god, Organa, do not bring your girlfriend into this, she scares me."

Bail smiles pleasantly. "All the more reason to."

Rex smacks his thigh pointedly. "See! This is why you'd make a great ambassador!" he cackles, "You can insult everyone, without _actually_ insulting them, which’ll make their tiny politician brains explode. And we can always use less politicians in the world," he adds sagely. 

"That's," Bail's expression hasn't really changed, but Rex shrinks away, "Food for thought."

"No. Stop. You are giving off disgusting vibes, sir," Rex says, “And I do not condone this.”

"It’s kinda your fault, Fett Two,” Quinlan interjects. 

Rex points a finger at Quinlan. "Don’t implicate me in this. Both of you should leave the premises. Immediately."

Quinlan and Bail exchange a look. 

Bail raises an eyebrow. "Nice kneecaps you have there. Would be an awful shame if those privileges were… revoked." 

"How about your dick privileges?" Cody asks. "Oh hold on, never mind. Yours is so short it would be meaningless to remove it."

Rex sticks out his tongue. 

“Top energy.” Quinlan chuckles. "Your big brother has bigger dick energy than you, Fett Two. Ooh, that rhymed."

"I am the number one in more ways than you realise, yes, that's true."

Rex throws a stick at him. Cody catches it one handed.

"And your boyfriend wasn't there to see that record breaking catch!" Rex taunts.

Cody glares at Rex. "He's not my boyfriend."

He pointedly doesn't look at Vos. That's dangerous territory. He can feel Quinlan's eyes burning holes into the side of his head.

That's a conversation just waiting to happen, too.

Rex, meanwhile, pouts. "Aww that's so sad, Alexa play despacito." 

Cody flips him off. 

There’s a quiet _ding_ and Bail fishes his phone out of the pocket of his jacket. Cody sees a flash of a face. He knows Bail's screensaver is his girlfriend, Breha Alderaan. The two of them are sickeningly adorable - almost as adorable as Anakin and his totally-not-girlfriend-shut-up-Ben Padmé. Those two are in love in the way only dumb ten year olds can be, holding hands and smiling at each other, exchaning heart-shaped post-it notes (Rex is responsible for that, he knows) that they keep “secret” inside their school planners.

"I have to go," Bail says apologetically, "Mum needs me to go to the shops."

Rex and Vos wave as Cody nods. Bail strides away, his blue coat quickly disappearing behind the bus shelters and into the heart of the city. 

Cody sighs, and flops onto his back. He tunes Rex and Vos and their petty squabbling out, instead staring at the clouds marching in sullen grey ranks overhead, the October winds just beginning to chase them across the skies. Are they going home, or being led away to spill their tears on dry, far-off lands?

Cody wants to go home.

He just doesn't know _where_ home is.

He suspects he knows _who_ it is, though.

* * *

Double Sociology. Beside him, Bail is studiously completing yet another one of those little busy-work activities that their teacher likes to give out instead of teaching. They annoy Cody to an irrational extent; they're one of his pet peeves. Ben's pet peeves are even more stupid: he has a burning hatred of voice-overs (the bastard can speak about five languages fluently, Cody remembers with a sharp, warm glow of pride) and, even more strangely, he hates the noise that bubble wrap makes when you pop it. Cody doesn't understand that; bubble wrap is possibly the most satisfying, relaxing sound he’s ever heard. That, and Ben's rambling, which is oddly soothing.

Not that he’d ever admit that aloud.

"You're smiling and I don't think it's slavery that makes you so happy," Bail's voice is quiet but cuts through Cody's thoughts like a hot knife through butter, "It's Ben, isn't it."

Cody startles, fumbling with his pen, which skitters out of his hand and over the edge of the table. He winces, and awkwardly twists around his desk to pick it up. 

"Um," he manages, sturdily gripping his pen this time, "What?"

Bail doesn't roll his eyes, but Cody knows it's a close thing.

"Don’t act like it isn’t obvious. Everyone knows.”

Cody swears, and the pen leaps out of his sweaty fingers, rolling too far away for him to grab without having to get out of his chair. He sighs, and crawls under the table to fetch it, narrowly avoiding slamming into the gum-covered underside of the table as he gets back up.

He flops down into the hard blue plastic of his seat. "I would hope not." 

Bail sighs. “Obviously Ben doesn’t.”

Cody becomes absorbed in inspecting the state of the pen. When Bail stops looking at him expectantly, he turns back to the worksheets. Bail coughs pointedly, but continues to silently slave away as well.

Cody quickly finds that he can't really concentrate, the pen heavy in his hands as he wonders why Ben still isn't in school. He hasn't replied to any texts; despite the logical excuses that he concocts, Cody can't help the creeping unease that curls low in his stomach when he thinks about it. He sets the pen down on the desk. 

_I ❤️ Paris_ , reads the fuchsia cursive on the side of the pen, dotted by faded, scratched rhinestones. Half of the little Eiffel tower model at the top was ripped off during a particularly stressful essay, exposing smooth white plastic. The entire colour scheme - pinks of varying hues - is obnoxious and mildly nauseating, but Cody loves this pen more than Ben loves highlighters.

“Cody,” Bail says lowly, “You really should just tell him.”

Cody sighs in frustration, burying his face in his hands. He would do it, hell, he _wants_ this whole catastrophic pining to end, but there is, unfortunately, a slight problem in that - well.

“Ben’s with Quinlan.” 

He feels Bail freeze, and heave out a long breath.

“That’s…” Bail stops, making a frustrated noise, and Cody lifts his face to stare blearily at him. Bail has lost his usual poker face, but is still inscrutable as ever, somewhere between hysterical mirth, the edge of tears, and fatherly disappointment. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

Cody narrows his eyes, confused and then flushes hotly.

“I may have. Yelled at him. About it.”

Bail blinks, wide-eyed, at him, and then snorts.

“You do realise,” he stops himself and rubs at his face, “Oh for the love of - he’ll have to tell you himself. You two are _morons_.” Bail mutters to himself. 

“Thanks.” Cody picks idly at one of the rhinestones on the pen. “Wait. What does Ben have to tell me?”

Bail ignores him.

“ _Bail_.”

He gets a kick to the shin for his efforts.

“Bail-”

“You good back there, boys?” calls the teacher from the front of the class.

Cody startles and nods when he notices her staring straight at him.

Well then.

* * *

 **_General:_ **im at home

The words are black-and-white, harsh in the twilight dimness of the late October evening. Cody waits for Ben to elaborate, but no more messages come. 

**_Me:_ **Ok??

Ben’s typing, the blinking dots animation oddly laggy. Cody waits, chewing on his lip, twisting the flannel of his pyjama trousers between his fingers. It’s too hot.

_Last seen 21:45_

Cody tells himself it’s nothing. He stares at the screen for one minute, two, the seconds crawling by, agonisingly slow. _It’s nothing_ , he thinks as his fingers fly over the keyboard, birds startled into erratic flight.

 **_Me:_ **Are u alright

No reply. Cody swears, rubbing a hand over his face; it’s nothing, it’s got to be nothing, Ben probably got distracted by Anakin, it’s not like this is an uncommon occurrence. 

It’s _nothing._

 **_Me:_ **Why havent you been at school?

His heart twists uneasily, throat closing up. The past two months have been confusing; Anakin coming over to stay with them more and more often, Ben’s presence at school becoming rarer and rarer, looking haggard and gaunt the few times he did attend, shuffling around with what looked suspiciously like a limp. And then the incident at training.

Cody doesn’t know what to do.

He should ask Jango, but he doesn’t want to make a fuss if there’s nothing to be worried about. He doesn’t want to rush headlong into something with only inferences and assumptions, and make a mess of things. Not again. 

So despite every instinct screaming at him, his heartbeat thumping through his ears, he sits on the desk chair, places his phone face down, and starts working on his essay again.

He doesn’t get far with the essay. He gives up ,after only a few minutes, checking his phone one last time; Cody can’t resist one more message. 

**_Me:_ ** I’m worried about you.

God, he fucking regrets that. Cody throws himself into bed, trying to ignore the way he still can’t quite breathe.

* * *

_His left side is on fire, each breath constricted and painful. Anakin is nearby, somewhere, but Ben prays that he won’t come out._

_As he sits up, he lets out a low groan. The room swims, darkness eddying in staticky pools throughout his vision._

_He implores whatever deity that will forgive his sins that they’ll be found._

_He begs to not be discovered._

* * *

Ben actually comes in the next day. He looks exhausted - slumped over his work, bags under half-closed eyes. The bird’s nest on his head sticks out in every possible direction, like he had run it through a hedge on the way to school. His clothes seem even baggier than usual, wrinkled and stained - the jeans that Cody knows for a _fact_ fit him fine a month ago hang off of his hips like a burlap sack. The four of them all but stare at him for several minutes before Rex manages a shaky _“Are you alright?”_

He doesn’t seem to hear.

“Ben.” Cody tries, which gets him a vague _hmm?_ \- better than Rex, at least. “Ben. Do you want to go to the nurse?”

“No!” Ben’s head snaps up, alarmingly fast, eyes wide. “No, no, it’s fine, just had the flu. Really bad. Anakin got sick, too.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Bro.” Quinlan sounds shocked. “You look like shit.”

“ _I-just-crawled-out-of-hell_ shit,” Rex says.

“ _I-fought-the-devil-on-my-way-up_ shit,” Quinlan adds. 

“ _And-then-fucked-him_ shit.” 

“And -” Quinlan begins. 

“Thanks.” Ben cuts him off, glaring. “Anyone else have something to say?”

“How much sleep have you gotten over the past week?” Cody asks sternly. 

“You’re not my mother, Cody,” Ben snaps, viciously clicking his pen. “Too much, if you’re asking, though. I had to leave Anakin.”

“You’re not saying -” Bail narrows his eyes. “You’re not saying that they’re _away_ again, are they?”

Ben nods, scrubbing at his face.

“Our uncle is coming in a week,” he mumbles. “We’re alone until then.”

“You can stay with us.” Cody frowns, leaning forward on his elbows, but Ben isn’t meeting his eyes. “Ben. General. Come on, you know you can stay with us. Jango’ll help with Anakin.”

Ben shakes his head. “It’s fine, honestly, I don’t want to impose. We’ll manage until Uncle Qui-Gon comes.” 

Ah, the famous enigmatic uncle. Cody met him once, a few years ago, sometime in year 7 or 8, he’s not sure. He got the general impression of ‘hippie’ — although his gaze was far too sharp to be on drugs. Qui-Gon really seemed to love his nephews, too, even when Anakin managed to tangle his hair while getting piggy-backed across the street. Ben had clung to him, eyes full of adoration, demanding his own turn. Cody distantly remembers feeling the sheer _benevolence_ coming off the man in waves, his eyes kind as he swung Ben up into his arms, Anakin still clinging to his back, the two brothers giggling and, in Anakin’s case, shrieking. 

He’d insisted on calling Ben _Obi-Wan_ , though, which was a novelty. Ben had openly stated that he didn’t really like his name, sometimes even flinching when someone mentioned it. When asked why, Ben would always smile and shrug, sometimes saying _“my parents died”._ That’s the version Cody knows, at least.

“You’re staying with us.” Cody says firmly. Ben opens his mouth to argue but Rex interrupts.

“Actually.” Rex perks up, grinning half-heartedly, “Dad was saying something about _cousin Fox_.”

“What about him?” Cody asks, kicking Ben under the table to let him know that they’re not done yet. “He's coming for the holidays, right?"

"Yeah. He was all bitchy about it too."

Cody snorts. If there's any word to describe Fox, it's definitely _bitchy_. 

"If Fox is coming, then surely that means that-"

"Ben." Cody snaps. "You're staying with us. You just had the flu, Anakin's sick, you can hardly manage on your own without your- parents. Who are never even there for you."

Ben looks like he wants to argue for all of three seconds before he sags, eyes downcast.

"Fine." He rubs at his face and looks, if possible, even more tired. "Fine. Are you going to text Jango?"

"Yeah, just so he’s aware. But we're always more than happy to have you and Anakin. You're family."

Rex nods enthusiastically.

“I second that.”

Ben looks relieved, a small smile breaking out on his face, even as he blushes and rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. Cody can’t help but grin back.

"Alright then." Ben murmurs, ducking his head shyly.

But, now more than ever, he smiles like he's about to cry.


	5. bad liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a MASSIVE THANK YOU TO MY BFF/BETA, NEMO, WITHOUT WHOM THIS CHAPTER WOULD BE AN ABSOLUTE FUCKING MESS. BABY, YOU'RE THE BEST.  
> also [this](https://forcesensitivebantha.tumblr.com/post/188182311300/the-two-of-them-did-something-and-rex-is-done-with) post inspired a section. Please look at it. I cried laughing. I couldn't not include it, so many thanks to [writehandman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writehandman/pseuds/writehandman).

> _You're back in the rain, in over your head_
> 
> _Back in the deep, old things unsaid_
> 
> _Back in the water, you're back in the water_

"Fox decided to inform us that Fives and Echo are coming with him," Jango announces over breakfast that weekend. He pauses dramatically, checking the clock on the wall. "Five minutes ago."

Rex visibly perks up, as does Anakin. Din stabs particularly strongly into his eggs, shaking off the kid hanging on his sleeve. Ben stares at Jango, looking pretty horrified. Cody does his best not to smirk - the twins have a habit of eliciting responses that range from unholy glee to absolute horror. 

"Fives and Echo?" Rex is grinning now, which would be a warning sign if Cody hadn’t had firsthand experience with the disaster twins. "Really?"

"Really," Jango says, sounding tired already, even though they haven't even arrived yet. 

Ben doesn't look impressed, either. Judging by the way he's rubbing pensively at his sleeve, he's _also_ remembering the pyrotechnics that Fives loves so much. 

The two of them are actually fairly harmless - as long as they're not near fire. Fives and fire is the recipe for disaster. Echo is just his enabler. 

This would all be manageable, if not for the fact that Echo has a certain knack for bringing out the puppy eyes and seeming innocent even in the most incriminating of situations, and Fives' frankly alarming talent for bullshitting. 

Cody remembers a period during Rex’s Gordon Ramsey obsession where he would walk around with two bread slices in his pocket to slap on people’s faces to recreate the “idiot sandwich” scene if they irritated him. Predictably, this backfired _spectacularly_ when he attempted it on Fives.

"What are you?!" Rex had shouted.

"A snack!" 

“Absolutely _not_.” 

Cody had laughed so hard he'd choked.

Fox, in contrast to the twins’ peppy antics, is the epitome of an exhausted student. He's too sarcastic for his own good, and has an unhealthy respect for authority (their other cousin, Fox and the twins' older brother, Wolffe had scoffed and called him an arse-licker at one point, which had _also_ backfired, because Fox decided that that moment was a good time to come out as gay. Via a… less than appropriate statement.) 

Honestly, Cody didn’t really see the need for Fox to come out. Though he acts like an entitled middle-aged man (despite only being a year older than Cody and Rex,) the man dresses like it’s his last Pride before a life-threatening surgery, with garish shirts and tight jeans galore. Not to mention the scarves. Oh God, the _scarves_. 

Fives had, memorably, set one on fire, which had been _quite_ the spectacle. Cody vividly remembers the pure, vindictive satisfaction he’d felt as the neon-pink monstrosity had sputtered into noxious flames. His schadenfreude had been swiftly quashed by the realisation that Fives was eyeing Cody’s own wardrobe hungrily, however. 

By the end of it, they had almost burned the house down. Twice. 

"Is there anything particularly… flammable in the house?" Ben asks.

Din nods in silent agreement, staring at Rex. Cody feels a brief flash of indignation on behalf of his brother, who acts more responsibly around the twins, but tends to be blamed alongside them.

"Fives probably brought his own matches. And gasoline. And flammable materials." Boba shoves a forkful of his eggs into his mouth and doesn’t even bother to cover it as he speaks, bits of food flying everywhere. Ben wrinkles his nose and elegantly picks up a piece of his perfectly sliced egg white. "'oo know 'ow 'e ith." 

Jango smacks Boba, making him flush and glare sulkily at his plate. He does close his mouth after that, though.

"We are all _well_ aware of how Fives is at this point," Ben mutters primly. 

Cody snorts. "Seconded."

"I like Fives!" Anakin pipes up, his plate shiny clean. 

"That's just ‘cause he let you have his lighter," Ben says, exasperated. "And then you burnt a hole in almost all of my jumpers." 

Anakin grins. “I regret nothing!”

“Who taught you that?” 

Jango raises his eyebrow of judgement. Cody likes to think that he, too, has perfected it, after years of imitation. At least he’s pretty sure he has, judging by the way Rex cowers at the sight. 

He'd like to say that it intimidates Boba too, but Boba just has that flat stare, which makes him the picture of indifference. It’s gotten even more effective since Din moved in. They probably compare notes. 

"Nobody!" Anakin all but wails. He's eyeing the rest of the eggs warily and with a tentative sort of hope. Cody frowns. 

Jango must notice it too, and this must be the reason why, during a particularly ridiculous discussion, Ben declared him the "ultimate dad" that all dads must defeat to achieve true dadhood (once they agreed that Jango was the final boss, Rex suggested that when a dad beats him, they all go out for a barbeque,) because he shoves the leftovers in Anakin's direction. Anakin immediately wolfs it down, and Cody shares an uneasy look with Jango. 

Cody looks back to Rex, who’s poking him in the shoulder insistently. Cody shoves him away, and he grabs the edge of the table for support. Narrowing his eyes, Rex delivers a swift kick to Cody’s ankle. Cody hisses in pain. 

“Boys,” Jango warns from across the table. 

Rex scowls. “Whatever.” 

Cody elbows him one last time, and Rex looks ready to tackle him to the ground. Rex’s eyes lock onto something behind Cody, and he retreats. 

" _Fine_ ,” Rex mutters viciously. He switches to a more civil tone. “They're coming at one, right?" 

"Yeah." Cody downs his glass of water, something of a smile on his lips after Rex’s involuntary forfeit. " _Five_ quid says that Fives will set something on fire by dinner."

"Ten says by three o’clock. I believe in him." 

It'll be good to have his cousins back, despite their troublemaking habits. He has a vivid memory from primary school, when they were supposed to do some woodland survival activity, but had ended up toasting marshmallows. Echo had been giggling like someone possessed, while Fives waved his burning marshmallow around, yelling _don’t underestimate my power!_

He was eight at the time.

"When is your uncle coming?" Jango asks, in a lull of conversation.

Ben makes a face, but covers it by reaching for his water and sipping.

"About four days." He smiles, somewhat tight. "Unless he gets delayed, again. Then we'll be out of your hair."

Jango rolls his eyes.

"If I could, you know I'd take you two in," he says. "Anakin, at least. You've only got a few months left until you're eighteen, after all.” At Ben’s shaken head, he shrugs. “You’re both family, _tama_."

Cody resolutely ignores his father's pointed glance and the muttered _when they finally get married, he'd be your son-in-law, dad, you know it_ from Rex, which earns his twin a kick. He smirks at the quiet yelp he gets in response, before wincing as Rex kicks him back, harder this time. Cody’s about to retaliate but Din has started projecting a vague aura of menace, so they come to a stalemate, glaring at each other.

"I'd be honoured." Ben says bashfully, oblivious of the war of wills happening less than a metre away from him. He's wrinkling his nose in that _certain_ way he does when he's embarrassed.

Jango hums, somewhere between pleased and noncommittal, and they go back to eating.

After breakfast, they all scatter to do their own thing. They've agreed that Jango, Rex and Cody will go pick the trio up at half one, so until then they're free to do whatever. 

Anakin runs into the front garden, the kid giggling on his shoulders, Din trailing after them cautiously. Jango and Boba have a quiet conversation, then nod at each other and head in opposite directions. Quin, who’d arrived a few minutes ago, throws an arm over Ben’s shoulders, making their way outside. 

Cody slumps into the sofa, turning on his phone and checking his email. Halfway through writing a… _strongly worded_ response to some spam emails that have been bothering him lately, Rex wanders into the living room, holding a bag of Doritos and smacking his lips as he stuffs them three at a time into his mouth. 

The bag rustles as Rex takes a particularly ambitious bite of the Dorito mountain balanced precariously on his hand, and Cody almost throws his phone at him. 

“If you don’t close your mouth soon I’ll choke you with that bag,” Cody threatens. 

Rex sticks out his tongue, covered with half-chewed bits of crisp, and Cody hurls a cushion at him. Rex dodges it, barely. He licks his fingers clean, slurping obnoxiously, and narrows his eyes at Cody. 

“I swear to -” 

"Ben’s in the backyard.” 

Cody’s too stunned at the sharp change in subject to continue his assault. “What?”

“Go on.” Rex makes a shooing motion with his hands, scattering bits of crisp everywhere. Cody flicks a crumb at him. “Go frolic with him or whatever you two do alone together.” He winks and wiggles his eyebrows, an expression which is slightly ruined by the orange Dorito dust on his upper lip. 

“I wouldn’t like to interrupt his and Quinlan’s honeymoon,” Cody says stiffly, trying for a joking tone, but mostly just sounding sad. Damnit. 

Rex groans for several seconds like the absolute drama queen he is, throwing his arm over his eyes and mock-fainting.

Cody gives him an odd look. “What?”

“Just fucking end me now,” Rex moans, climbing over the back of the sofa and burying his face in the cushions, nudging Cody with his foot. 

“Don’t be a degenerate.” Cody shoves Rex’s foot back, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Look, they’re coming back now.” 

Rex perks up at that.

“Quick, get down!” He shoves Cody further into the downy sofa, so that he wouldn’t be seen from the back. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Cody hisses. 

“Trust me Codes,” Rex says, “I got this. Just make sure you aren’t spotted.” He suddenly flips over the sofa again, back into a standing position by the time the door opens. 

Ben looks up from his conversation with Quinlan. “Oh, hello Rex.”

“Hey,” Rex replies, elbowing Cody back out of Ben’s eyeline. 

“Rex, not that I doubt your fashion choices, but is that a Dorito in your hair?” Ben asks mildly. 

“Irrelevant.” Rex coughs unsubtly. “How is your serious, committed romantic relationship with Quinlan going?” 

There’s a pause. 

“Actually, Quinlan, I was about to profess my undying love to you this afternoon.”

“What a coincidence! I was gonna do the same thing. Bought roses and everything.”

A few seconds pass, and they both erupt into raucous laughter. Rex joins in, the traitorous bastard. 

“Dear _lord_ , can you imagine it?” Ben yelps between chuckles. “What a nightmare!” 

“Better than me taking you away from _you-know-who_.” 

Ben starts coughing. “ _Shut up._ ”

Cody pokes his head above the sofa. “Wait, you guys aren’t dating?” Fuck, he sounds pathetic. 

The jovial mood dies in an instant. Ben makes awkward prolonged eye contact with Cody, and he can’t look away from the odd look in Ben’s eyes. 

Rex all but runs out, grabbing Quinlan and dragging him with. 

Ben just looks at him with his stupid face, his stupid fucking blue eyes, which are strikingly blue even from a distance, and they have these tendrils of different shades intertwined into an intricate, beautiful formation, like the knot patterns on old Norse runes. It’s mid-November, so Ben’s summer freckles have faded, leaving pale skin and purple eyebags, complete with messy hair that’s just this side of too long, and Cody surprises himself with how much he wants to run his hands through it.

This is _absolutely_ the wrong time to realise that he’s in love with his best friend.

 _God fucking dammit_.

“You,” he starts, wincing at the immediate flinch he gets in response. “I mean. Ben.” He groans, running a hand down his face. 

“I thought you knew.” It’s not an excuse, or a lie. 

Cody averts his eyes. “How should I know what you don’t tell me?” 

“I don’t - I don’t know,” Ben mumbles. “I just - never mind.”

“I feel like I barely even know you anymore.” Ben flinches, and oh yeah, that was a stupid thing to say. “I don’t even know what your parents _look_ like.” _Please, please just tell me._

Ben tenses, his shoulders bunching up under his stupid sweater. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

“What do you want, Cody.” Ben replies, monotone, and he sounds so _tired_ but Cody’s too wound up to calm down. Someone once told him that the opposite of anger is understanding, and he _doesn’t understand_. “My entire life story? My darkest secrets? Everything that’s fucking broken in my life so that we can have a pity party for poor old Ben? Invite the whole family, why don’t you?” His voice is progressively getting louder and louder. “Hell knows I haven’t already had enough people laugh at me!”

Cody’s voice is quiet. “You don’t even trust me not to look down on you?”

“I do trust you.” Ben’s face is tight but his voice is firm. “Of course I trust you, Cody. I -” he looks away, licking his lips. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Can you just - take my word for it?”

Cody feels vindictive, feels like something has been stolen from him, though he doesn’t know what. “What else haven’t you been telling me?”

“ _Cody_.”

“How am I supposed to look out for you if you don’t communicate?”

“You can’t protect me from _everything_!” Ben yells and everything goes silent, save for the ringing in Cody’s ears. He whispers, “You can’t protect me from this.” 

Why does everything have to be so fucking confusing? Cody was gearing up for a rejection, a broken heart, but his feelings got mixed up with Ben’s secrets, and now he’s just upset and confused, feeling like he’s surrounded by broken glass and is stepping on every last shard. 

What startles him out of his reverie is a sniffle from Ben. 

He’s still Cody’s best friend. No matter what. 

Cody crushes him into a hug. Ben inhales shakily, and as Cody strokes his hair, he lets out a stabler exhale. They stay like that for who knows how long, until Cody finally pulls back.

“I’m not going to say it doesn’t frustrate me, but you don’t… have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he says, each word painful. 

Ben sighs. “Oh, I would tell you everything, Cody. You have no idea.” 

Cody’s mouth turns dry. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. 

Finally, he says, “Wanna go play Minecraft?”

“Yeah.” 

“Race you.” Cody’s off before Ben can even respond, and he skids into the other room, laughing at Ben’s indignant yell.

About an hour later, Jango calls Cody and Rex out to go and pick up the trio.

“Come on, idiot.” Rex swings an arm around him, half dragging him over to the car. “We’re going on a mission-”

The car itself is a seven seater, a KIA Sedona that runs primarily on stubbornness and their collective willpower. Rex takes shotgun - it’s his turn this week. Meanwhile, Cody almost hits his head on the roof as he climbs into the middle row of seats, taking the one behind Rex, on the left.

“What happened there?” Cody crosses his arms and refuses to look at Rex, too, who’s twisted around in his seat to make puppy eyes at him. Cody hates that they always work. “C’mon, Codes, spill spill _spill_.”

Instead, he stares out of the window at the back of Ben's head - Ben has already got Anakin sitting on his shoulders, but he’s looking at Cody. He notices Cody noticing and grins, giving him an awkward before turning away.

“Well,” Rex sighs melodramatically and flops back into his seat. “You were _so fucking close_.”

“Language.” Jango warns. Cody makes sure their dad isn’t looking so that he can stick his tongue out.

“Sorry.” Rex mutters petulantly, reaching behind his seat to flip Cody off and Jango sighs, twisting the key into ignition. The car sputters to life. “Cody, come _on_ , get it together. I feel like I’m stuck in a romcom or something.”

“I just- _couldn’t_ , okay!” Cody snaps, flushing.

Rex gives him _a look_. Cody sighs.

“It’s just that, it didn’t seem like the right time. And then he said that I couldn’t protect him from - _something_ , and he didn’t say what, and I _know_ he’s hiding something. For all we know, he could be-”

The realisation makes the bottom drop out of his stomach. His entire body feels like it’s _dropped_ too, a bitter taste flooding his mouth, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

It can’t be.

It _can’t_.

But it has to be. 

Shit, he’s _such an idiot_.

He understands, now. Everything clicks into place like one of Boba’s guns, locked and loaded, ready to fire. Instead of anger, there’s just a swirling, roiling - emptiness. It’s like everything has suddenly fallen to pieces but he can see the bigger, bleaker, picture underneath.

It’s all happening _so fast_. It feels like an action movie, one scene switching to another with no fluid transition in-between.

“He could what?” He dimly registers Rex saying. “Cody? Cody, dude, you’re pale, what the fuck.”

He breathes in, _five seconds_ , hold, _five seconds_ , breathe out, _five seconds_ , hold, _five seconds_. _Twenty seconds, repeat, you can’t do anything right now, stay calm._

“Fox is a law student.” He manages faintly, only just realising how painful his grip on his own arms is. He doesn’t relax it, though, the feeling somewhat grounding. 

“Yeah.” Rex sounds incredulous. “And?”

“Would he know.” Cody swallows, the words sticking in his throat, sour and awful, heavy with cloying guilt. “How to deal with domestic abuse?”

This isn’t a movie, though, neither action nor romcom. It’s _real_. The car doesn’t screech to a sudden, shocked halt, but carries on driving, smooth over the concrete road. Jango breathes out, weighed down with _something_ , tired. Rex stares, eyes wide. Cody looks, dazed, at his brother and idly notes the contrast between the dark skin they share and the whiteness of Rex’s hair.

“What.” Rex is as shocked as he is, apparently.

But not Jango.

“I’ve had suspicions.” Their dad mutters, eyes fixed on the road. “But I didn’t want a repeat of…”

He trails off, and Cody knows exactly what he’s talking about.

_Din, sitting there, on the carpet, dripping blood and terrified silence all over the place. The kid lying limp in his arms, the paramedics milling around, the knowledge that if they hadn’t intervened, it wouldn’t have ended with this-_

“Yeah.” Cody looks out, over the fields around them. The sheep are gone by now. It’s just sullen grey clouds over bare earth, dark green hedges around yellowing grass.

The car slows down, the indicator ticking left, loud clicks in the semi-silence.

“We could be wrong, though.” Rex says, and he sounds hopeful. Cody wants to believe that they are, but he knows, deep down, that they’re not.

“We’ll find out.” Jango’s voice is surprisingly firm and steady. “Maybe that uncle of theirs knows something.”

“Yeah.” Cody repeats, vague, his brain going...even more blank, for some reason.

The rest of the drive passes in silence. They drive past the two roundabouts, past the colleges lining Barton Road, then down the cramped squeeze that is Newnham road, onto Fen Causeway, where they get stuck in traffic over the small bridge, staring out over the mud of the small fields, the Department of Engineering shiny-new among the sandy-coloured stone of the older university buildings and the dull red bricks of The Leys boarding school. Cyclists go past, and the few pedestrians that are out are wrapped in waterproof coats against the chill. They turn right, drive for several minutes, St. Mary’s school and the Perse going by without Rex’s habitual ‘oh look, the rich kids!’. They turn left, onto Bateman Street, parked cars lining it on both sides, and Rex doesn’t start singing any of his ten thousand variations of the Batman theme. They make it onto Hills Road and then onto Station Road, sitting in more traffic for another suffocating five minutes, then finally pull into the loading bay of the train station.

They go through the actions mechanically, _undo seatbelt, open door, get out, close door, shove hands into pockets, stand close to Rex_.

“I still hate the renovations.” Rex says dully, kicking at a post. “Absolute bollocks.”

Cody hums noncommittally and they trail after their father into the station itself. Rex, again contrary to habit, doesn’t make a beeline for Marks & Spencers, with its too-pricey food. Instead, they stand together and squint at the _arrivals_ screen.

“Did they take the King’s Cross or the Liverpool street one?” Rex asks.

“King's Cross.” Jango stands next to them, projecting calm. Cody almost forgets about their realisation. “The thirteen-oh-one, look.”

“On time.” Cody mutters, the neon orange letters dancing oddly against the black of the screen.

“That’s new.” Rex bumps Cody with his elbow, then says, quiter. “It’ll be alright, Codes. If anything, Fives can set the bastards on fire!”

Cody snorts, and some of the tightness eases, but he still feels out of whack.

_Too fast, can’t be real, has to be a dream._

He went from confused, to hopeful, to angry, to...numb in the span of about two hours. He's struggling just a _tiny bit_.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, look who it is!” Rex points and there, that brightly coloured person who looks _exactly_ like them despite not being a direct relative, is Fox. Several metres behind him, giggling as they turn the corner, are Fives and Echo.

"Hello, ladies.” Fox comes to an awkward halt in front of them, grabbing at his suitcase before it falls over, then stepping forward.

They crowd into an awkward group hug with him, and then he moves back, squinting at them, propping his case against his hip as he scrutinises them. His gaze settles on Cody and his eyes narrow further.

Fox is a notorious gossip and far too preoccupied with everyone else's lives, since he has to find a way to ignore the flaming dumpster fire that is _his_ life, so Cody just _knows_ what the next thing to come out of Fox's mouth is.

"Please tell me you've manned up and asked him out." 

_Close enough._

Beside him, Rex snorts ungracefully and Cody manfully resists the urge to throttle both of them. He’s still out of it, the thoughts racing through his head, but the sheer _normality_ of seeing Fox is throwing him off. It’s like everything’s just as it was, but he’s looking at it through a lense that’s tinted just _slightly._ It's incredibly unsettling.

Fox, true to form but nonetheless disappointingly, is wearing an eye-watering combination of neon-yellow shirt, crimson jeans, and white trainers, paired with his usual scarf, which is also white. Cody doesn’t wince, but Rex does. The bright colours are actually _soothing_ , for some reason.

Cody resists the urge to check the sky for flying pigs.

Meanwhile, Fox’s expression is a rapid-fire cycle of _horror-exasperation-fear-horror._ Cody doesn’t break eye contact and _doesn’t_ blush. That odd tight feeling is back in his chest, and mixed with creeping guilt and unease, it’s a dangerous molotov cocktail in his stomach.

Thankfully, he’s spared an answer when Fives and Echo appear behind their older brother. They are, as always, dressed in matching outfits, but Fives has managed to grow a wispy goatee - he's doing pretty well for a seventeen year old - and his slightly-longer curls are tucked against his head with hair pins. Echo, however, hasn't changed much, still slightly lankier than his twin and a tiny bit shorter.

“Guys!” Fives yells, practically vibrating, and Cody smiles apologetically at the elderly lady who was standing too close and startled so badly that she almost dropped her baggage.

Fives mutters a _sorry_ at her as he seizes Echo’s hand and speed-walks past her over to them, pushing past Fox to drop his suitcase and practically run at Rex. Fox squawks indignantly as Echo is dragged after him, knocking into him a second time.

“Rex!” Fives cheers happily, drawing out the _ks_ as he launches himself at Rex, wrapping his arms around his cousin. “Mother!”

Cody snorts and mentally files that one away for blackmail, but Fox just looks mortified, clutching awkwardly at his suitcase and looking around the hall. The old lady is shuffling her way past them with what looks like a smirk on her face. Cody accidentally makes eye contact with her and it widens. He looks away, squinting at the floor to keep himself from laughing.

Meanwhile, Echo edges his way past his two brothers, over to Cody and Jango.

“Hey kid.” Cody says. Echo grins dopily at him and opens his mouth to answer but Fives interrupts their moment.

“Cody!” Fives barrels his way over. “ _Cody_ , Cody, hey, hey uncle Jango! Cody, where’s your boyfriend?”

Rex laughs, because the bastard loves putting Cody into awkward situations.

“Ben is at home.” Jango says from behind him, and _Cody never asked for this, ever,_ just as Cody manages, tightly, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“How is he _still not your boyfriend_?” Echo asks incredulously.

“Cause they’re both idiots.” Rex cheerfully claps Cody on the shoulder and oh, he’s _really_ in for it now.

* * *

Half an hour, numerous uncomfortable questions and multiple anecdotes about the twins' latest shenanigans later, they're home. 

They're greeted on the porch by the entire family, sans Ben.

“Ben went for a walk.” Anakin announces before any of them can ask, the words tripping out of his mouth as he throws himself at the twins. Fox, the Scrooge, neatly steps out of range.

“Did he say where?” Cody asks. He needs to talk to Ben. Or well, he wants to, but he doubts that he’ll be able to bring - _it_ up.

“Park, I think.” Din materialises next to him out of almost nowhere, and Cody ignores the odd twinge in his chest when he notices that Din is wearing Paz’s hoodie again.

“Okay, thanks.” Cody spins on his heel. “I’ll go find him.”

“Maybe he wants to be alone!” Din calls. Cody shrugs, jittery, and runs out of the garden.

It takes him less than five minutes to make it there, going at a dead run through the almost empty village. There are a few kids out and about, playing on the zipwire and the swings, their parents sitting on the numerous benches, chatting idly.

He doubles over, panting, then forces himself upright and starts making his way over to Ben, who’s perched high up on the climbing structure with his back to Cody. It’s his favourite place to sit, and they’ve spent entire afternoons up there, balanced on the steel beams, talking about nonsense until they got hungry or it was too dark to see properly.

He swings himself up, carefully avoiding the children playing down in the lower nets, jumping up a little to haul himself onto the beam next to Ben.

Ben doesn’t greet him, not that he really needs to, just stares out over the park, where all the other kids are. They're playing football, dogs gambolling around them, or chatting in small groups, but there aren't many of them out in this weather so the park is mostly a drab green colour, filled with patches of soggy dirt and mud. Cody grips the metal underneath him tighter, settling down more securely, so the undersides of his knees are over one beam but the one behind him is digging in, smooth and slightly damp, into the small of his back. Ben, however, has opted for a much more precarious position, his hands on the back bar but fully seated on the front one, legs dangling over the side.

“Hey.” Cody starts, faltering. “How’s it going?”

There's a moment of silence. Ben's eyelashes flutter, his profile outlined against the grey sky.

“Okay.” Ben turns his head to look at him, and Cody pretends not to notice the way his eyes are red-rimmed, the bags under them dark against his too-pale skin. “The usual. You know how it is.”

“Yeah.” Cody swallows, and the words he wanted to say stick in his throat. Instead, he reaches out and puts a hand next to Ben’s, so that their pinkies are brushing, just a tiny bit.

Ben freezes, but doesn’t move his hand away. Cody’s heart skips a beat, throat feeling weird, chest too tight. He swallows again and moves his hand incrementally to the right, so that their hands are pressed a little closer. The small contact makes his stomach tighten and he takes a deep, shuddering breath, feeling like he’s not getting enough oxygen, giddy on the asphyxiation.

He wants to run away, back to the past, back to how everything was, but he aches with something he was too scared to name until earlier today, the want to get ever closer, to hold Ben close and never let him go.

Hearting pounding, he manages to edge his hand, sweaty with nerves, over Ben’s. Fingers first, then his palm, just resting there, on top of Ben's slightly smaller hand.

“Your hand’s sticky.” Ben says weakly, his voice trembling, but he still doesn’t move away. Cody ignores the flare of _something_ in his chest.

“Sorry.”

He can’t quite breathe, all of today crumbling down on him - Fives and Echo’s arrival, his outburst/almost confession, so many realisations, and now - this. It has to be a one-off, surely it’s platonic to do this, hand-holding is platonic, he’s held hands with Jango, with Rex, Anakin has hung off of him several times, too, Din had clutched at him too, eyes too large in his face. He’s even held hands with Ben, long ago, on that residential trip, when they’d been playing hide and seek in the basement of an old building, in the pitch dark, in the echoing silence. He can’t remember who’d reached out first, but for five minutes it was two thirteen-year-old boys squeezing each other’s hands, crouched together in a dim alcove, pressed knee-to-knee. 

“I’m scared of the dark.” Ben had whispered, then, because it had seemed to be a great time for confessions.

“Me too.” Cody had breathed.

They’d inched closer to each other, after that, holding on tight while all the other kids yelled and hooted in the dark, around them - but it was just them, for five minutes, their own little bubble, each other’s breathing in their ears, heartbeats thudding.

“It was sticky then, too.” Ben says, now. “Remember?”

“Yeah. In Beaumanor?”

“Yeah.”

Cody doesn’t say anything more. He hadn’t thought Ben would remember that particular incident, even though Cody himself had spent the next few days curled up tight in his sleeping bag in their shared tent for the trip, listening to Ben rustle and turn in his sleep. The phantom pressure of Ben’s hand had been there, around his own, for the rest of the week.

He hadn’t realised why it had been like that until much later.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Rex yells suddenly from under them.

Cody startles, hand jerking away from Ben’s almost by instinct. Ben wobbles on his perch before sliding off and dropping down onto the soft tarmac. Cody glares at his brother, who makes a _no-can-do_ face at him. Cody rolls his eyes, and, having no time for theatricsm climbs down normally, setting a _good_ example for the children who are playing on the ground.

“Dad told me to come and fetch you.” Rex says accusingly, leveling a glare first at Cody then at Ben. “You left your phone at home, Codes and you-” he turns to Ben and stabs a finger at him, “weren’t answering.”

Ben frowns and digs his phone out of his pocket. Cody watches him fiddle with it and then sigh.

“It’s dead.” He smiles sheepishly, at Rex, who rolls his eyes.

“Fine, you’re both excused.” He spins on his heel and starts speed-walking in the other direction. “Come on, we have guests, the twins are gonna set fire to something earlier than anticipated if they don’t see you soon, Ben. Even though that means I’d win five quid." He makes an expansive gesture, grinning. "Five whole packets of pringles...”

He continues rambling, but all Cody can think of is the tingling up his entire right arm, spreading down his spine and into the flush creeping up his neck.

* * *

"Are you taking first shower or am I?"

Ben startles, head jerking up from where it had fallen onto his arms.

"You can." He frowns sleepily. "What time izzit?"

Cody smiles, far too fond, and curses himself. It's worth the small lip-twitch he gets in response, though.

"Half nine." He wanders over to his wardrobe and digs out his t-shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms. "You brought sleeping stuff, right?"

Ben nods slowly, head lolling back onto his arms. The sight makes Cody pause - Ben doesn't look particularly relaxed. In fact, he seems - vulnerable. Guarded but exposed. Cody sighs.

“Hey, you should probably go take a shower first.” Cody pokes his best friend in the shoulder, which gets him a slight wince - he doesn’t want to think about the implications of that, and Jango hasn’t brought it up again, at least not yet. “I’ll set up your place. Besides, I thought you were dead for a second.”

It’s not his best joke (it wasn't even a joke) but it makes Ben snort.

“I certainly feel dead.” He mutters but hauls himself upright, yawning. “See you on the other side.”

He yawns again, rubbing at his eyes, and shuffles out into the bathroom.

Cody sighs, flopping down into his chair, which is still warm from where Ben was sitting - or sleeping - on it. He leans forward onto his elbows, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes until the phosphenes start to dance behind his eyelids. 

He’s peripherally aware of the shenanigans going on downstairs and of the sound of the shower starting, but now that he’s not interacting with anyone, the ringing in his ears is loud. He knows he should probably concern himself with Ben’s… situation, but all he can feel is the cold of Ben’s hand under his own. The pulse of his own heart when their pinkies brushed.

He’s so gone it’s stupid.

He sighs again and lifts his head up off his hands, squinting at the desk. Ben’s phone is lying next to the mouse, turned upwards. He still hasn’t taken off the stupid rainbow glitter sticker Cody had stuck on his face that one time a few years ago, before GCSEs. It had gone from Ben’s cheek to his nose and then onto his phone’s case. Since then, he’s got a bi pride sticker, again courtesy of Cody, and a few others. He’s kept all of them, a fact that makes Cody smile and his heart grow a little more.

But Ben had mentioned that his phone was dead - sure enough, when he tries to turn it on, it just flashes a picture of an empty battery, the LED indicator at the edge of the screen flashing red. Figuring that Ben would probably forget to do so, Cody gets up and roots around in the mess of wires to find the charging cable. He finds the head and manages to untangle it from everything else, then plugs Ben's phone in to charge.

The screen lights up with _charging_ but the LED light still blinks red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter should be up in a couple of weeks; it's going to be dealing with stuff that is extremely personal for me (I'm having some difficulty writing it, tbh) and may be triggering, so I'm gonna say it now. Next chapter is dealing with abuse.  
> Some of you may have noticed that I have a set number of chapters now! it might fluctuate, but what I do have is a concrete outline and drafts. 
> 
> BUT thank you so much to y'all, the love this fic has been getting is - making my grinch-heart swell. ty!!


	6. would you rescue me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a day. Shut the fuck up.  
> Two chapters left! It's been a wild, wild ride, but the worst is over now.  
> Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me, to all the commenters, kudosers and bookmarkers. I love y'all dearly.  
> Heads up, my beta is getting a break, so this chapter is unbeta'd - it's just me, ya boi, thedisasternerd, dumping all my issues into this chapter. This one is gonna be - potentially triggering (see the end notes for the warnings). Although it's not my story, it has some parallels, so it's quite...sensitive, for lack of a better term. I also want to say that I'm awful at action scenes, but I tried. I really did.  
> Anyway, this is the last leg! After that, it'll be healing, fluff, and sweet, sweet _communication_.

> _Would you rescue me when I'm by myself?_
> 
> _When I need your love, if I need your help_
> 
> _Would you rescue me?_

When Cody wakes up the next morning, Ben’s gone.

Cody squints into the darkness, listening for Ben’s steady breathing - but doesn’t hear anything. It’s still dark outside, but then again the Fetts make a habit out of being early risers, and it’s November. Ben, too, isn’t exactly a night owl - although Cody suspects he sleeps much less than he should, almost always up at half six. So Cody doesn’t think much of it, assuming Ben’s probably downstairs - then he checks the time.

_05:25_

That’s earlier than usual, but given yesterday’s rollercoaster of emotions, Ben’s probably just up earlier than usual. The bathroom door is a black hole in the dimness of the room, but as far as Cody can see the door to the corridor is closed - maybe that’s what woke him up.

He closes his eyes and groans, burying his head into the pillow. He _could_ get up and ‘vibe’ as Fives puts it, with Ben downstairs, or he could _sleep_. 

Five more minutes, he thinks, knowing full well that it’s going to be a half hour, but he can’t bring himself to care as he drags the duvet over himself and closes his eyes.

* * *

He jerks awake at his usual time, automatically swinging his legs over the side of the bed and blinking muzzily at the wall across from him.

_06:45_

The house is silent. He’s still earlier than usual - in any case, he’s often the earliest to get up, after Ben, that is. Din’s sleeping schedule is absolutely fucked up, but he’s a home schooled drop-out so he doesn’t really need routine, and the kid had messed up what was left of it. Rex tends to sleep until nine, while Jango is up not long after Cody. 

He groans, rubbing at his face as he gets up and goes through his morning routine - change into home clothes, brush teeth, stare at face in the mirror for five minutes then wash it, go back into his room, trip over the mass of cables, pull on a shirt, stumble out into the corridor.

He’s halfway out of the door when he does a double take, spinning on his heel to stare at Ben’s corner - he’s around so often that Jango went and bought a sofa-bed and a box for his stuff. The bed is completely stripped and in an upright position, the sheets lying folded up on the edge.

Cody swallows, suddenly nervous, and looks for any sign that Ben's staying - his phone, the chunky glasses he lugs around with him but never wears - but finds nothing.

He spins on his heel and almost runs down the stairs, not caring that he'll probably wake everyone up with the clattering; any sound on the staircase can be heard perfectly upstairs. He skids into the kitchen, hissing as he knocks into the edge of the counter - sure enough, Ben's not there. His shoes are gone, but Anakin's are still there. It's still dark outside, so the only place he could've, _should've_ gone is back to his house. 

But _why?_

The realisation is like an ice-cold bucket of water over his head. His heart drops like a stone and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

At least Anakin's still here.

He needs to get Jango. 

He needs to get Jango, but he doesn't move, instead staring numbly at the spot wear Ben's trainers should be. 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and quickly dials Ben's number, but instead of going through the voice of the automatic response starts saying _the number you-_

Cody ends the call and then redials the number over and over again, not quite knowing what he expects. He flicks open WhatsApp and notes that Ben was last seen at _05:15,_ which just makes it all worse.

He slams the lid down on his rising panic. Then, he turns and runs back up the stairs, down the corridor, and all but rams his way into Jango's room.

His dad is already up, thankfully, squinting at him blearily from where he's sitting on the side of the bed.

"What's going on, tama?" He's on his feet before Cody can open his mouth, or even blink, moving forward and wrapping his arms around Cody just as he starts to cry. "Cody? Son?"

"Ben." Cody sobs, nonsensically, into his father's chest. "Ben's gone."

Jango leans back, taking Cody by the shoulders.

"Cody, Cody, look at me." Cody sniffs, the tears still running down his face. "Calm down. What's going on?"

"Ben's gone, his shoes are gone, he, he folded up the bedclothes, and everything, I couldn't reach his number-"

"Cody." Jango interrupts. "Cody, this is a bit sudden, but where does he live?"

Cody rattles off the address that he's never visited for some reason, and Jango takes a step back. His hand is still on Cody's shoulder, a solid presence, almost comforting. It's certainly staving off what Cody knows is an anxiety attack. He hasn't had one in - years, now, but he recognises the clawing at his lungs all the same.

"You should stay here, tama." Jango peers at him, the concern all too prevalent in his expression. "I don't think. It may be like what happened with Din."

"No!" Cody is startled by the vehemence of his own response, and it pierces the ringing in his ears. The world comes into focus, too sharp, but at least not spinning wildly. "No. I'm going with you."

"Alright then." Jango eyes him dubiously. "Let me put clothes on. Wait for me in the car, I'll be out soon."

Cody nods and grabs the keys as they're thrown at him, then practically trips out of the room, stumbling back downstairs. He realises that he hasn’t got any outwear on, but decides that Rex’s puffy coat will do, pulling it on, the inner material sliding across his bare arms. He’s never liked the feeling, and Rex is a size smaller than him, but he doesn’t want to go and get a hoodie, doesn’t want to waste time, so he just runs out of the house, into the pre-dawn darkness, unlocking the car, the familiar beep so close to breaking the molotov cocktail he's become.

He swings himself into the passenger seat, once again narrowly missing hitting his head on the roof of the car, and slams the door shut. Wraps his arms around himself and stares into the pool of sulfurous orange light cast by the old street lamps, the lone one that hasn't been replaced yet. Its light makes ugly contours out of everything, the garage door stark black and orange, his hands twisted and veiny, the dashboard oddly bulging, shadows running across it in strange patterns. Rex’s blue and white coat is black in this light. 

He resists the urge to curl up. The seatbelt is too tight across his chest. Ben’s in trouble, he can feel it. His heart hurts, his head is swimming, he can’t breathe, but he doesn’t cry, doesn’t even startle when the car door opens - but not the one to the driver’s seat.

Rex climbs in behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, just like Jango did. His expression is grim and stark in the orange light, but he’s got Cody’s coat on, which makes him laugh, weakly.

“Coat thief, that’s what you are, Cody Fett.” Rex tightens his grip on Cody’s shoulder. Cody doesn’t shrug him off, unspeakably glad that his brother is here. “Shameless.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?”

“You woke me up.” Rex says, shaking his head. “Dad’s coming, by the way. Besides, you’re not as subtle as you think you are, and I care about Ben too. We’re all in this together. The OG gang, you know how it is.”

“Yeah.”

The car door opens, again, and Jango swings himself inside. He’s shorter than them, so he doesn’t have to be careful about hitting his head, something Cody is oddly jealous of. When he and Rex went through their last growth spurt, so this year’s one, they’d whacked themselves hard enough to draw tears every single time they got in the car for about a month. Rex had almost earned himself a concussion, once: Ben had fretted, like always, for all of five seconds before he and Cody had collapsed into laughter. Rex had almost cried from indignation.

“Come on, boys.” Jango slams the door shut. The sound is like the thud of a guillotine. It feels like they’re going to stop an execution.

Cody wants to throw up.

Instead, he steels himself, jerking his chin up and tapping his heart twice. Rex and Jango follow suit, the gesture familiar and unifying: he feels ready to take on the world now, with his family by his side.

Jango keys the ignition, and the car sputters to life. They back out of the drive and onto the road. 

“What are we even gonna do?” Rex asks from the backseat over the rattling of the engine. “Are we gonna kidnap him? We don’t have a plan. For all we know, he could’ve just gone for a walk.”

“He wouldn’t have taken all his stuff.” Cody snaps. “And Anakin’s still with us, so. I don’t know.”

“So we’re just going in with no fucking plan?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well.” Rex wrinkles his nose and then grins, wobbly. “We’re fucked.”

Cody shrugs and turns back to the road.

“I’ll handle the talking.” Jango says firmly into the white noise. “You two hang back.”

That’s as good a plan as they’re gonna get, apparently.

Five minutes later, Jango pulls up beside a fairly nondescript house, one of the many that were built in the ‘70s. It’s semi detached, brick with a wall around the back garden about Cody’s height. The gate is almost falling apart, the red paint peeling off along with the splintering wood. The wall itself is cracking under the weight of two untrimmed trees, and there are vines on it too, black in the watery blue of dawn. 

There’s a battered car standing in front of the garage - right, _business trip his arse_ . It’s number plate gives away that it’s eight years old, from 2010. Not that that matters, really, but the way that the entire right side is crumpled and the bumper is absolutely _destroyed_ \- the number plate is new, though - is sending alarm bells through Cody’s head.

They get out of the car. Cody clenches his fists and burrows himself deeper into Rex’s coat, which is slightly uncomfortable given the fact that it’s too tight around his shoulders. Rex, on the other hand, has simply opted for jerking the hood of his - well, Cody’s - coat up, so that it hangs over his face. Cody figures that he should probably do the same.

It’s a good feeling, for some reason. He feels more protected like this, and now he gets why Din never takes his own hood off. But more importantly, he feels ready, almost like he’s put a helmet on before a battle.

Jango sets off, walking quickly, and they follow him around to the front of the house, across wet grass, ducking around a big tree. Rex manages to trip over a branch, swearing; the streetlamps here are new, though, so he doesn’t have much of an excuse. Their titanium white light makes the scene just a little more bleak, even more unpleasant, glinting dully off the rows of cars lining the road. Behind their backs, in the East, the sun is rising, making the sky a sort of gunmetal colour, but slowly clearing into its usual iron grey, the clouds heavy above their heads. They then bypass another tree, which is in the front garden of the house, and this time Cody’s the one to almost get his eye poked out by the sharp, warped branches. 

The garden around it is messy and untamed, with a bush tucked into the side of the house. The grass isn’t too long to start raising questions, but it’s not exactly short either - another little detail in the bigger picture.

Cody also realises that he’s never been in this part of the village. It’s an oddly jarring thought, considering the village isn’t exactly _large_ , and he’s lived here his entire life.

The lights are on in the house but the curtains are drawn. He can make out two blurry figures in the large downstairs window, and the light in one of the upstairs rooms is on.

They follow Jango down a descended path to the front door. It’s embedded, for lack of a better word, in the wall, and the bricks around it are cracked and dirty. The door is translucent glass, and is dark save for a single strip of light, probably from the other room. The number on the door, _39,_ is made from battered metal, rusted and falling off. There are dead leaves caught in the spiderwebs in the corners of the door.

Jango raises his hand and knocks. Cody is reminded of a countdown beat.

He and Rex step back, shoulder to shoulder. Cody resists the urge to hunch into his coat and throws the hood back - he feels like they need to make a good impression to avoid the door getting slammed in their faces. Meanwhile, Rex makes a small sound and gropes for Cody’s upper arm. Cody does the same to Rex and they squeeze each other’s biceps, a gesture of solidarity. Jango taught them it when they were young, Boba just about to be deployed. It was the four of them sitting in the living room, watching their older brother blink away tears.

He wasn’t the same when he came back from the front.

Cody doubts that they’ll be the same when they come back from - this.

The light flicks on behind the door, a sort of prison-yellow, and a silhouette appears. The key scrapes in the lock and the door opens.

“Hello.” Says a pleasant voice. Cody bristles at it, the faux-pleasantness. “Can I help you?”

There’s a brief, heavy silence where Cody suddenly tries not to panic, the adrenaline only just starting to work its way into his veins. Beside him, Rex is as stiff as a board, and Cody can’t imagine that he’s much better. His muscles feel like they’re coiled and ready to snap.

“Miss.” Jango replies gruffly, and Cody wants to - just _do something_. He doesn’t think they’ll be needing pleasantries soon, anyway, so why fucking bother? “Your sons were staying with us for the night, and your eldest, Ben, disappeared. Do you know where he is? We’re worried for him.”

Jango shifts to the left and Cody sees a middle-aged woman, with no particularly outstanding features beyond the fact that she’s wearing full make-up. She looks like your typical suburban mum, a little tired, but smiling pleasantly enough. The darkness her face is cast in slightly negates that effect, and she looks oddly menacing instead of friendly.

“Of course.” She frowns and Cody is suddenly so _angry_ . He clenches his fists, too tight, his fingernails digging into his palms, and Rex puts a hand on his wrist. He tries to jerk away but Rex only tightens his grip. “I’m so sorry he worried you. He’s so... _absent-minded_ sometimes. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names..?”

Cody grinds his teeth together.

“Jango Fett.” Their dad says stiffly. “These are my sons. Cody and Rex.”

“Oh, of course!” Her tone takes on a slightly patronising tone, if a little too clipped for it to come across as fully polite. Cody wants to strangle her. “I’ve heard so much about you from the boys!”

“Glad to hear it.” Jango’s voice is tightly controlled in that way when he’s either angry or protective. Or both. “But where is Ben?”

She laughs, the sound oddly nervous. Cody doesn’t think he imagines the muffled yelling.

“Oh, he’s upstairs, in bed.” She says, too loud.

“That’s a lie.” Cody snaps, stepping forward and ignoring the hissed _Cody_ from his brother, instead wrenching his arm out of Rex’s grip. “What the fuck did you do to him?”

Her eyes go wide and scared, and now that he’s closer, there are tear tracks in her make-up, her mascara smudged. Her hair is wild, too. She’s half out of the door, too, effectively blocking them from seeing inside.

“What on earth do you mean?” She sounds horrified, but Cody feels like it’s for the wrong reasons. Her eyes are darting from Jango to Cody to Rex, standing at the back. “Why are you here?”

“Miss...Kenobi, is it?” Jango’s voice is like a knife, glinting in the sun. 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s Jinn.”

“Miss Jinn, then.” Jango puts a hand on Cody’s back. “If it’s alright with you, we’d just like to talk to Ben.”

“But he’s sleeping!” She protests, too loud again. 

“Well maybe I can go up to him, then.” Cody takes another half-step forward, and he’s about eye-level with the woman, so he stares straight at her, shaking his dad’s hand off of his back. “How’s that?”

“Could you control your son?” She turns to Jango, laughing again. “He’s threatening me.”

“He’s not threatening you, Mrs. Jinn.” Jango digs into his pocket and flicks a card into her face. “Officer Fett, miss. I’m here in an official capacity, too, to investigate allegations of domestic abuse. I demand that you step back and let me search this house.”

That was... _not_ part of the plan. Not that they had a plan, but if Jango doesn’t have a warrant, and they don’t _really_ have concrete evidence, they are _fucked_.

Not that he was expecting any better. But he’ll fight tooth and nail to get Ben out of that house, and finds that he doesn’t give a shit if they end up in prison, as long as Ben’s safe.

“Where’s your warrant?” Mrs. Jinn demands, flustered. She’s backing up, though, as Jango steps forward, taking Cody with him. “I’ll call the police!”

“I’m an officer, miss. I _am_ the police.” Cody doesn’t need to see to know that his dad is doing his smirk, the terrifying one, the one that broadcasts _danger, stay back_. “If you let me see your son, we can avoid any unpleasantries. However, if you have something to hide…”

“I’m calling my lawyer!” The woman is well on her way to hysterical, and there are heavy footsteps behind her, like someone’s coming down the stairs. “I’m-”

“I can arrest you for resisting.” Jango’s bluffing now, he _doesn’t have a search warrant dammit_. Cody finds he doesn’t give a shit. If they find incriminating evidence, he hopes there won’t be any consequences. “Besides, I have reasonable grounds to conduct this search, miss, so I don’t need a warrant.” Really? They’re operating on a fucking _hunch_. This was a bad idea. Bad- “I’ve noticed signs of neglect and even physical violence in both of your children. Please step aside.”

He doesn’t wait for her to protest to push his way inside, but then there’s another voice-

“Jango?” A voice slurs. 

Cody stares straight into the eyes of a very drunk Qui-Gon Jinn and all the air is punched out of him.

Jango isn’t faring much better, but he collects himself quickly enough. Behind them, Rex gasps.

“Mr. Jinn.” Jango is practically vibrating next to Cody, and he can’t claim to be any better than his dad. This is... _unexpected_ to say the least. 

He can’t believe it. This is the same man who...who…

He feels _sick_.

“This is an unexpected surprise!” Jinn grins at them, and suddenly everything makes so much _sense_ but at the same time it’s like trying to shove the last piece into a jigsaw and missing every time. That analogy doesn’t even make fucking _sense,_ just like this entire situation. “Please, come in.”

“ _Qui_.” The woman hisses, and pushes him back inside. “Sorry, I didn’t want you to- to see that.”

“Cannabis?” Jango asks. Cody suddenly registers the smell - alcohol mixed with, well, weed, the smell that hangs around some of the roadmen in school. "And is there anything else you don't want us to see?"

The woman suddenly looks small and oh so _frightened_. Cody seems to have misjudged the perpetrator of the crime - this is possibly _worse_.

“Miss.” Jango says, kinder now, and she looks up at him. “We just want to help Ben and Anakin.”

Cody belatedly realises (it’s been a week of fucking epiphanies, and he doesn’t like it) that she’s crying now.

“I’m sorry.” She steps aside, shoving at Jinn, who was standing behind her. He stumbles down the corridor. “I just don’t want him to get in trouble. He’s been so bad since...since his wife died. I’m his sister.” She clarifies quickly.

“I see.” Jango says, not unkindly, but the steel core is still there in his tone. “Miss, his behaviour is severely impacting his sons’ lives. It can’t go on.”

“I know.” She heaves in a breath and Cody suddenly realises that she’s just as much of a perpetrator as her brother. He’s angry again - he _doesn’t understand_.

 _The opposite of anger is understanding,_ Ben had told him once, smiling gently, eyes so... _sad_.

And right now, he doesn’t understand _why_ anyone could do this, to Ben no less.

Jango pushes past her. Cody and Rex follow suit, stepping inside.

The smell is worse here. Cody coughs unsubtly and Rex is making a face. Jango, however, seems unperturbed, focussed on the mission that he’s set himself.

“You two find Ben.” He jerks his head in the direction of the stairs. “I’ll, uh, _deal with_ Mr. Jinn.”

“Obi-Wan’s in his room.” Miss Jinn says. “The one at the end of the landing. He’s...not…”

“Do I need to call an ambulance?” Jango asks sharply, and the knife edge is even more prominent in his voice now. 

Cody doesn’t wait for her to reply, running up the steps two at a time. They’re steep, painted white, but scuffed and suspiciously stained. He hears Miss Jinn say _no!_ too loudly before he’s swinging himself round the bannister and Rex is clattering after him. The corridor is narrow and there are several doors - only one of them has a light on behind it, though. 

He heads for that one, quick steps across linoleum - but something crunches under his foot.

He stops abruptly because he knows that sound all too well from dark alleys and accidentally stepping on shattered glass at home. He looks down, and sure enough, there’s the dark brown of a broken beer bottle. He curses. Rex does too.

“I don’t fucking like this.” He spits, bending down to pick the glass out of his shoe then moving forward again. “In fact, I fucking _hate this.”_

“Me too.” Rex mutters. “Me too, Codes.”

They pick their way over, through yet _more_ broken glass, which is glinting dully in the overhead lights. Cody swallows, blood roaring in his ears. He pauses in front of the door and gently pushes it open.

The room beyond is practically bare. There’s a bunk bed in the corner, a desk, a wardrobe, stains in the carpet - and Ben.

Oh god, _Ben._

Cody can neither move nor breathe.

There’s. Blood dripping down the side of Ben’s face. He’s far too pale. His arm-

His _arm_.

It’s a mess. He’s cradling it in his lap and his right hand is shaking over it, fingers and palm smeared in blood. There’s a small pile of glass on a plate next to him, with bandages and a tub of Sudocrem by his thigh. 

“Cody.” He rasps. His eyes are too wide. “You. How?”

“Ben.” Cody whispers hoarsely and takes one step, two, then stops and asks the most stupid question in the entire fucking history of humanity. “Are you. Are you okay?”

Ben heaves in a breath. Closes his eyes. Rex puts a hand on Cody’s shoulder.

“I’m. I’m fine, Cody.” The boy is breathing too fast now, like someone who’s either going to cry, have a panic attack, or both. Cody thinks it’s going to be both. “I’m fine, I’m fine, please, I’m _fine_.”

He buries his face in his hands, and his shoulders are drawn up high, right by his ears, and he’s shaking, he’s shaking, rocking back and forth, and Cody can’t-

He drops down on his knees beside his best friend and puts his hands on Ben’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

“Ben. Ben. You’re safe, you’re coming home with us-”

“I can’t!” Ben all but yells, and there are tears dripping through his fingers, he’s got a hand over his mouth and his breathing is harsh, rattling. “I can’t, I gotta stay and help, I have to help cause it’s my fault and, and, _Cody_ , I can’t-”

“It’s not your fault.” Cody fights the panic rising in his chest. Rex drops down next to him, and puts his own hands on Ben’s knees. Rex says it next: “It’s not your fault, bro.”

“It is.” Ben’s breathing is too fast, too deep, almost scratchy. “It’s my fault, I was there, she didn’t survive but, I, I did-”

“ _Ben_.” Cody says sharply, rubbing circles into too-sharp shoulders. He’s going to _murder_ someone today and it’s not even eight in the morning. It's never too early for homicidal urges, apparently. “Ben, it’s not your fault. It _isn’t_.”

“I’m sorry.” The words are tripping out of him now, and Cody _hurts._ “I’m so _sorry_ , I failed Anakin, and I failed you, I’m just a burden-”

“Ben!” Cody nudges Rex out of the way and slides his hands up to cradle Ben’s face, knocking their foreheads together. Ben’s hands are cold against his nose. “Ben, Ben, listen to me, it’s okay, you’re safe, it’s not your fault, Anakin’s fine, you’re fine, you’re okay.”

Ben takes a deeper breath and calms down, just slightly. His breathing slowly gets more even and he collapses against Cody.

“I’m sorry.” His breath ghosts over Cody’s hair and he’s completely limp as Cody stands up and manhandles Ben back into a sitting position. “Cody.”

“Shh.” Cody flops down next to him, the mattress creaking loudly underneath his added weight. “Let me look at your arm.”

Ben doesn’t resist as Cody takes his arm and plucks a wet wipe from the packet on Ben’s other side. He wipes at the blood, please to find that there aren’t any more bits of glass, and that the cuts aren’t actually too deep. He throws the used one away and gets another one, gripping Ben’s wrist to keep him from jerking away, not that he particularly needs to do that: Ben is absolutely limp, now, eyes glassy. His head lolls onto Cody’s shoulder and he’s practically a dead weight against his side.

“Rex, could you pass the things?”

Rex looks up from where he’s leaning protectively against Ben’s legs and nods mutely, grabbing the bandages and cream and passing them to Cody.

He scoops out a dollop of the Sudocrem, which smells of antiseptic and lavender, and starts working it into Ben’s arm. The stuff is oily and clings to his fingers, but he doesn’t mind - it’s taking his mind off everything, this repetitive motion. Ben is breathing softly into his ear and there are tears dripping down his face, glinting in the lights.

Cody knocks their heads together, like they always do. Ben sighs, a shuddery thing. Cody continues rubbing the cream in, until the raw red of the cuts - which have, thankfully, stopped bleeding - is a pale pink. He gets a bandage and carefully starts to wrap it around Ben's arm, careful to avoid touching the wounds with his fingers too much.

Another few minutes, and they’re done.

“You think you’re good to stand up?” Cody asks.

Ben shrugs, eyes distant. 

Cody exchanges a glance with Rex and comes to a quick decision.

“Okay.” He gently pushes Ben onto his back on the bed. “Do you have a suitcase or something anywhere?”

Ben blinks at the ceiling and then turns his head, slowly, to Cody. His eyes are still distant and shiny with yet more unshed tears. 

“Under the bed.” He says hoarsely.

“Okay.” Rex is the one to get onto his front and reach underneath, groping around for a few seconds before yanking out a large suitcase - Cody recognises it from Beaumanor, and even before that, Hilltop residential. The names _Anakin_ and _Obi-Wan_ are written in shaky letters up the side. 

Cody tears his eyes away and gets up, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the upper bed. He glances around at the bare little room and takes stock of everything that they’re gonna take, which is gonna be as much as possible. He suspects that it’d be better to avoid coming back here. First, he goes to the wardrobe and takes out all the clothes in there - there aren’t many, both thankfully and concerningly - and dumps them in the suitcase. Meanwhile, Rex has dug out two rucksacks and is sweeping any and all school materials into them, another box checked off the list. Cody looks around again, then goes to put the meagre amount of books and technology into the suitcase with the clothes. 

Rex gets on his stomach and checks under the bed a second time while Cody sorts out the suitcase. It’s still half empty and he makes a mental note to subject the brothers to Fox’s shopping; they really need more clothes, Ben literally owns two pairs of _everything_ , as does Anakin. Cody’s fairly frugal and will wear the same shirt for a week, but at least he has _choice_ \- something it seems Anakin and Ben don’t have. 

Meanwhile, Rex drags out two boxes and dumps them in the suitcase.

“I think that’s everything.” He mutters.

Cody’s about to answer when Ben interrupts:

“What are you doing?” He’s pushed himself up into a seating position and his arms are shaking. Cody is struck by the intense urge to just hug him and _never_ let go, not for the rest of his life. “Cody? Rex?”

“Just packing your stuff.” Rex sits down heavily and they start zipping the case shut. Ben makes a small sound behind them.

“Why?”

“You’re coming with us.” Cody smiles up at him, but falters at Ben’s panicked expression. Thankfully, though, Ben doesn’t start hyperventilating again, but nods, rubbing at his face.

“Anakin is still at yours, right?” He asks through his fingers.

Cody’s heart twists. There’s a muffled thump from downstairs.

“Yeah.” He gets up and tries not to wince as his knees crack. “C’mon. Let’s go to the car. Can you walk?”

Ben nods, haltingly, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. As soon as he gets up, though, his legs fold and Cody barely catches him before he falls. 

He’s a warm weight against him, but Cody resolutely pushes all those thoughts away - now isn’t the time. They have a much, _much_ bigger concern right now.

He wraps Ben’s arm around his shoulders and tucks his own arm around Ben’s chest, effectively supporting him. He has to lean down a little, since Ben hasn’t yet caught up to him in height, but he doesn’t mind.

“There’s glass in the corridor.” He says. “Do you have shoes or something?”

“Downstairs.” Ben mumbles. 

Cody stops for a second, then thinks, _fuck it_.

He drops down and gets an arm under Ben’s knees, hefting him up into his arms. To his credit, Ben doesn’t make any undignified noises, but he does gasp softly, his injured arm coming up to grip at Cody’s shoulder.

Rex giggles, the sound completely out of place, but still welcome. Cody wrinkles his nose and tries not to think too hard about how light Ben is.

“Hey!” Rex yelps suddenly, scrambling to his feet. “Hey, why do I have to carry the stuff?”

Cody smirks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

Rex chokes. Ben laughs, weakly, and they step out of the room.

It takes them five minutes, struggling and swearing, Ben apologising under his breath, to get downstairs. There’s an argument going on in the kitchen. 

Cody winces and sets Ben down apologetically. The boy mumbles his thanks and makes a beeline for his shoes, stuffing his feet into them awkwardly as Cody grabs the suitcase off of a disgruntled Rex, rolling it towards the door.

Before they can get very far, however, Jinn appears in the doorway. Cody notes with satisfaction that he’s already sporting a black eye, and Jango looks far too smug.

Cody shares a brief conspiratory smirk with his father. They seem to be of the same opinion.

“Hey!” Jinn yells, and Ben flinches, violently. On instinct, Cody steps forward, putting himself between the man and his best friend, the hand not holding the suitcase clenching into a fist. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Uncle-” Ben starts, terror leaking into his voice.

“We’re going the fuck away from this place.” Cody snarls.

Beside him, leaning against the bannister, Rex crosses his arms and makes an affirmative noise. Cody smirks, the action baring all his teeth.

“That’s my son.” Jinn wails, oblivious, moving forward, and Cody tenses. “You can’t take him away from me!”

“Watch us.” Cody waits until he’s within range, and then _swings_ with everything he has.

The satisfaction of feeling his fist with Jinn’s face is _immense_. There’s a crunch and then Jinn is on the floor, hopefully out cold. 

Cody really hopes he doesn’t get reviewed for antisocial behaviour because he’s _grinning_ and he probably _really_ shouldn’t be. 

“Come on.” He turns around, to Ben’s too-white face, “We’re going to the car.”

He leaves and doesn’t look around until they’re standing by the car. They open the boot, shoving the suitcase and rucksacks in, then make their way over to the front of the car. Because, as Rex likes to claim, they “share a brain cell”, they all get into the middle row. Cody takes left, as always, Ben in the middle, Rex on his other side. The usual.

Suddenly, it’s very, very quiet.

“So.” Rex starts. Ben is tense between them. “That was, uh. Fun.”

Ben makes a tiny noise.

“Wanna talk about it?” Cody asks, nudging Ben gently.

“Maybe later.” Ben mumbles, the words viscous and all but dragged out of him, and drops his head onto Cody’s shoulder, closing his eyes.

Cody sighs and lets Ben lean on him. He looks out of the window, Ben a comforting weight against his side, Rex breathing steadily not too far away, and watches the sun climb up into the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: domestic abuse, injuries from glass, panic attacks, punching. Also, I blame [Graham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalbarryTrashcan) for cheerleading Qui-Gon getting punched. It was my idea, though.
> 
> this chapter was up early, but I'm not sure about the last two - I'm estimating about two weeks, we'll see. Thanks for reading!


	7. something just like this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it. This is the second 6k chapter I've written in as many days. Fuck. Again, it's unbeta'd.  
> We're getting close to the end of the fic! It's been...whack, and finally, finally, things are getting better :)  
> Warning for discussions of abuse. That's all I have to say.

> _ I'm not looking for somebody _
> 
> _ With some superhuman gifts _
> 
> _ Some superhero _
> 
> _ Some fairytale bliss _
> 
> _ Just something I can turn to _
> 
> _ Somebody I can kiss _
> 
> _ I want something just like this _

“Cody?” Ben pokes his head inside their room tentatively. “You’re not too busy?”

Cody downs his coffee and looks up. 

Ben’s face is a bit blurry, so he tips his head down, making his glasses slide down his nose so that he can peer over the top of them at Ben. He got them last weekend, because after enough of him complaining about not being able to see what he was writing or reading, Ben had come to the decision that he really needed to get his eyes checked out - and sure enough, Cody was also long-sighted. 

It then turned out that Ben hadn’t been to his own eye check-ups, too, so they’d booked in to get their new glasses together, spending about two hours giggling at each other and trying on the stupidest frames while the assistant slowly lost their patience and eventually left them to do their own thing. He considered getting the same frames as Ben’s old ones, for nostalgia’s sake, but decided against it - it was a bit overboard and sappy, for one, and they were also too clunky for his tastes. He’s having enough trouble getting used to these ones.

“Cody?” Ben prompts.

“Nah, just finishing up.” He sets his mug down with a decisive clunk and spins around. “What’s up?”

Ben slides into the room, tripping over the mass of cables again before coming over to sit on his bed, opposite Cody. Cody raises an eyebrow at him and Ben flushes, fiddling with something in his hands before reaching over and putting it on the edge of Cody’s desk.

“If you don’t mind.” He coughs awkwardly, rubbing at his neck. Cody picks up the envelope that Ben just gave him, turning it over in his hands. “Could you read that? It’s just that. Well. Please read it it’ll make more sense-”

“Of course.” Cody looks up, smiling softly. Ben relaxes and sits down properly, tucking his legs up under him, holding his favourite pillow close to his chest. 

The envelope has his name scrawled on the front in thin, cursive but cramped letters, looping tightly across the paper in smudged, scratchy yellow ink. Cody remembers that pen - it’s from a set that he’d given to Ben so long ago.

He turns it over and rips the flap open as swiftly and neatly as possible, sliding a finger through the crusty glue. 

There’s a letter inside. He pulls it out gently, and looks up at Ben, who’s watching him nervously, tongue running over his lips. Cody looks away before the motion can hypnotise him, up to Ben’s eyes - wide and blue, like always, with the edges of his fringe framing them with auburn. 

Cody smiles at him again and his heart skips a beat when Ben’s lips twist into a lopsided grin for a brief second, his eyes darting across Cody’s face.

Anyway. Back to the letter (he can feel his ears getting hot and he knows why all too well, now).

He unfolds it, and stares at the pages filled with Ben’s tiny, angular but also curling writing, at the slanted lines, the scribbled out words, his own name, written out again. It’s an odd feeling, looking at his own name written in Ben’s handwriting, and it feels him with  _ warmth _ for some reason.

It’s dated a week ago,  _ 27/11/2018  _ scrawled neatly in the corner of the page. Ben crosses his sevens, for some reason, a habit that used to make Cody protest loudly, but is just cute now. 

It’s been two weeks, roughly, since The Incident - which happened on the 12th - and since then a lot has managed to happen. Qui-Gon was charged, as was his sister. The court date is in January, but only Jango will be attending - Ben, Cody, Rex and Anakin opted to write down their official victim and witness statements rather than stand up in front of the judge and jury. Fox dragged the Kenobi-Skywalker brothers out on a shopping trip, and they actually managed to get decent stuff, rather than Fox’s usual garish attire. Jango is going to get adoption papers for Anakin, hopefully, and Ben has taken up temporary residence with them, moving into Cody’s - well, it’s  _ theirs _ , now, and the implications of that made Cody  _ ache  _ with longing - room. They spend almost all their free time in here, now.

He smiles and turns to the letter.

_ Dear  _ ~~_ Commander _ ~~ _ Cody, _

_ As you well know, I’m not exactly one for saying much out loud. At least, not right now. And there are lots of things I don’t think I won’t be able to say out loud, to anyone, for a long time. _

_ But I owe you - and, to be honest, myself - this. _

_ You’re downstairs as I write this, and it would be so much easier and yet impossible to go to you and just say this, to you, to Jango, to Fox, who’s helping us deal with adopting Anakin and definitely needs to know as much as possible, to Anakin, who deserves the truth, to Rex, who’s like my brother. But instead, I’m sitting here, in your room that’s going to be our room until the summer, or at least until we go to uni. But anyway. I’m rambling - I guess that’s because I’m scared of getting to the point. _

_ What I wanted to say to you was the story of, well, my life. The Memoirs of Ben Kenobi: 17 Years Of Rolling Down The Hill Of Sanity Into Fuck Knows What, if you will. I made that title up on the spot, if you have any better ideas, please tell me. You’re gonna laugh at me when you read this, I just know it, so if I’m not there to tell you, please stop laughing at me. _

“Stop laughing at me.” Ben says.

Cody shakes his head and looks up at him, snickering. There’s a tentative sort of hope mixed with vulnerability in Ben’s eyes, but he seems quietly amused.

“Never.” Cody hates how fond he sounds, and quickly goes back to reading.

_ There, I said it, Cody Fett. _

_ Anyway.  _

_ Qui-Gon was always strict with me, specifically, especially when we were young. I think it came from insecurity - his long-time girlfriend and later wife, Tahl, had left him shortly after he’d adopted me. So on the occasion, he’d get really angry with me for the most random things: not getting a spoon out of the drawer quick enough, not getting that arpeggio right in piano, doing something stupid, you name it. He’d get angry at me and yell, and although he’d always apologise, I was left scared of doing anything wrong, and he always said the same things over and over - so they must’ve been true, right? That’s what my brain told me, and still tells me now, sometimes. He’s left me with complexes that I recognise but can’t change or untangle - but at the same time, there’s the nagging “it’s not his fault” in the back of my head that convinces me that my anxiety and shit is all my own fault, that my home life was perfect. But then, sometimes, I remember that he got physical - slapped me, once, poured tea over my head (it was cold), dragged me by my ear, grabbed my hair, face. I don’t like to think about those times, and he was always under influence - either anger, alcohol, or drugs - when he did it. I can’t say that I blame him, really.  _

Cody looks up, and Ben is biting his lip.

“I’m sorry.” Cody mumbles. “We didn’t notice anything.”

“You weren’t supposed to.” Ben says and there isn’t any judgement in his eyes, just something oddly sad and confused. “That’s just how it is, Cody, and I never even thought about blaming you. I don’t like blaming anyone.”

Cody nods mutely, swallowing down the tight lump in his throat.

He wonders how much he misses, being who he is. He’s not much of a people person, to be honest, not like Ben, who can easily chat with an old lady at the till that he’s never met before for  _ hours _ , while Cody will just grunt out an unintelligible  _ thank you _ and all but run away. Similarly, he knows that Rex is considered mature and competent, but to Cody he’s just  _ Rex _ , slightly annoying, quotes memes, absolutely  _ not  _ mature and, well, his baby brother. 

It’s odd to think how much of the world he  _ truly  _ sees through his own eyes. 

He saves that thought for his existential crisis, later, and drags his eyes back to the page.

_ He’s always had problems with drugs, but I didn’t want anyone to find out, and it was easy to say that he was an uncle who only came back sometimes. He’s like an uncle to me, really, and he really did only come back on the occasion from his trips to, well, la-la land. Then Anakin came, and it was like he forgot all about me, not that I minded. He really does love Anakin, but that made his attitude to me worse when he got angry. Anakin was too old to really consider Qui-Gon a father and somehow got attached to me, instead. Anakin  _ _ is _ _ my little brother, and I’d do anything for him, so I set myself the goal to protect him from Qui-Gon, and I hope he doesn’t know the full extent of what sometimes happened. Then, Tahl came back, and it was all okay for a year, they got married, but then she and I went on a bonding trip together, and the car crashed. I survived, barely, but she was killed on impact.  _

_ She’d been driving, and I freaked out because a group of kids had decided to run across the road - I yelled, she swerved into a wall. The kids were fine, they had crossed the road long before we’d gotten anywhere near them - so on a level, her death is my fault.  _

“It’s not your damn fault, Ben.” Cody snaps. Ben swallows and looks away. “Ben.  _ Ben _ .”

“Just read it.” Ben whispers.

Cody shakes his head and gets up off his chair, coming over to sit down next to Ben.

“I’m gonna beat it into your thick fucking skull, Ben. It’s not your fault.” He wraps his arm around Ben’s shoulder and shakes him gently. Ben sighs, tense.

“If you say so.”

Cody narrows his eyes at him but sighs, leaving this conversation for later. Ben is going to need professional therapy at some point but that’s not something that’s in his control, so he just carries on reading, rubbing at his chest - his heart hurts, tapping painfully against his sternum.

_ Qui-Gon certainly thought so, and from then on it all got worse. He took up alcohol on top of everything, his sister came to live with us, and it quickly turned out she didn’t give, as Fives likes to put it, a dead moose’s last shit about us. She knew only too well what was going on, but didn’t do anything, just went along with it, too scared for Qui-Gon getting arrested for everything to care about our wellbeing, although she encouraged us to stay out of the house as much as possible. I’m infinitely grateful to you and your family for pretty much taking us in. Even though I’m just taking up temporary residence with you until uni, I think Anakin deserves a place in your family - he’s certainly welcome, as am I, even though I was too engrossed in our Situation to notice that.  _

_ Things went from bad to worse when Anakin saw me getting shoved into a wall and tried to intervene. At that point, I realised that he’d have to start staying with you more often, and ended up with you more often than not, too. I’m so glad for that. I’m scared to think what could’ve happened if that option hadn’t been there. _

_ So yeah. That’s it, pretty much. I’m still sorting everything out in my head - logically, I know that none of this is anywhere near okay, but I’m still attached to my uncle, he still raised me, and I think I turned out alright. _

“You turned out amazing, Ben.” Cody knocks their heads together and holds Ben tighter. The younger boy relaxes into him. “You turned out the best of us., but not thanks to Qui-Gon. You turned out to be  _ you _ , whatever your anxiety and complexes. You’re still you.”

“I think that title goes to you. The best of us, I mean.” Ben is a bloody expert at deflecting, always has been. The reason  _ why  _ makes Cody hurt so much.

“Nah.” Cody waves Ben’s earnest statement off, wrinkling his nose. “Just take the damn compliment, Ben.”

“No, really, Cody.”

“No you.”

Ben harrumphs and looks away, hair brushing against Cody’s neck as he turns his head.

“I win.” Cody says and hopes his voice isn’t too strangled.

“Sod off.”

Cody snorts and goes back to the last few words on the page. His chest is oddly tight and he’s on the verge of tears for some reason.

_ So. That’s it, that’s the show, pretty much. The past is the past, now, and what we can do is work on how to make the future a better place. _

_ But I wanted to say, most importantly, is that whatever happens, whatever shit I pull, I assure you, you’re still my best friend. You’re closer than that, really, but not like a brother - it’s hard to explain and really, I’m better off saying it to you in person. You’re like someone who I know is always going to be my side, no matter what. Remember when we had that whole “we’re soulmates!” thing? When we turned up in the living room and you just told everyone. Rex wet himself laughing, I remember, Boba was making weird faces at Din and Jango was smiling. Yeah. That. I never stopped thinking that. It’s stupid and sappy, but I feel like it’s the best way to put it. And I know I’m quite frugal with affection and compliments, so I just wanted you to know that. _

_ And I love you. I love your family, Jango, Rex, Boba, Din, the kid, all your stupid crazy cousins, Fives and Echo, Fox and Wolffe, Bly, Hardcase, Jesse and Kix, Boil and Waxer, I love Anakin. And I guess we’re all family, in one way or another.  _

_ So I’ll say it again, for all the times I never could. I love you. Thank you.  _

There’s a little doodle of a heart, filled with the orange-gold that is Cody’s favourite colour, and a scrawled  _ Ben ‘n Cody are the best gang! Rex sometimes participates!  _

Cody remembers screaming that from a hill before Rex pushed him off the platform and he went hurtling down the zipwire, Ben waiting for him on the other side, cheering and waving in the unselfconscious way only younger teenagers can pull off.

He chokes back his sob.

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Ben Kenobi. _

_ P.S. don’t cry on me, you get snot everywhere. At least get a damn tissue, you sap. _

“Shut the fuck up.” Cody says weakly, sniffling and wiping at his face. “Shut the fuck your mouth, Kenobi, and pass me the fucking tissue. And don’t tell Rex.”

Ben snorts and shoves a handful of Kleenex tissues into Cody’s face.

Cody blows his nose, wipes away the incredibly incriminating wetness on his face, and buries his face in Ben’s hair.

“You stupid fucking.” He wheezes for breath as Ben wraps his own arms, tightly, around Cody’s chest. He figures they’re allowed this, even though his traitorous heart is beating in double time to the rhythm of his thoughts. “You absolute. Stop making me soft. I’m a bad bitch.”

“The worst.” Ben says pleasantly into Cody’s shoulder. 

“And for what it’s worth, bad bitches have their moments. So I love you too.

"And I'm sorry for what happened to you." He sobers suddenly, and his arm is probably too tight around Ben but he can't bring himself to care. "I really am, and I want to punch the Jinns in the face-"

"Please don't."

"-for hurting you. But. What matters most, now, is your future, so we're gonna work on making that the best it can possibly be. Together, right?"

He feels Ben smile into his shoulder.

* * *

* * *

It feels like everything is okay now. Better than okay,  _ amazing  _ \- Ben’s doing much better, and although the first month saw him breaking down with guilt and even the odd panic attack every other day, he acclimatised pretty quickly. He’s smiling so much more now, obviously at ease, happy, even. Cody feels like his heart, his  _ ice-cold grinch heart _ , has tripled in size from that alone. 

He’s still not sure how or when he’ll, well, confess - but he’s got a PowerPoint presentation going, and he thinks maybe next year, after exams maybe ( _ too long to wait _ , his lizard brain screams, but he ignores it). He thinks he stands a chance, now, but he wants Ben to acclimatise and heal a little more before going any further. He’s Ben’s best friend first and foremost, and everything else, all those flutters, clandestine smiles, teasing and flirting, the way he wants to hold Ben’s hand, hold Ben himself, kiss him gently, maybe even...more- all that comes later. 

But sometimes, it feels so much like they’re something  _ more  _ that it hurts to realise that they’re still just. Platonic, at least officially. They haven’t talked about - feelings, so Cody’s scared of being friendzoned after all they’ve had. 

It’s all very confusing, but he’s happy to just be with and around Ben. Even if it means dragging himself outside when all he wants to do is ignore his university applications and lie around in bed all day.

“It’s too cold for walks, Ben.” Cody whines as he pulls his trainers on. He stands up to pull his coat on and ignores Rex mouthing something he’d rather not repeat at him from the kitchen table, instead turning to Ben, who’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning excitedly. “I get that it’s sunny, but why?”

“Says the one who’s getting dressed.” Ben says smugly. “Come on.”

Cody grumbles for effect, wondering when he was last this happy, and zips his coat up, pulling his beanie on and stomping over to Ben, who waves cheerfully at the rest of the room and then steps out of the door. Cody flips Rex off in lieu of a goodbye and follows his best friend out, into the December cold.

It’s sunny out, but that does nothing to raise the temperature. It’s cold enough for his breath to mist in front of his face, and he huffs, watching the vapour twist like candle smoke. He’s suddenly reminded of the fact that it’s Christmas soon, and the entire family is going to get together. This will be the first year they have their newest official members with them, and the thought makes Cody smile in anticipation. The Koon side of the family - so that’s Fives, Echo, Fox and Wolffe - is apparently also bringing a younger sister with them, Ahsoka Tano. Anakin expressed great delight at finally getting to know someone younger than him, if only by three years. From Wolffe’s exasperated tone, Cody guesses that Ahsoka is also a trouble-maker, so she and Anakin should get along just fine. Bly is bringing her wife, Aayla, while Kix and his wife Jesse are coming from the USA and stopping by to get Waxer and Boil. Waxer’s just finished his chemotherapy, so Kix promised to keep an eye on him - although Cody knows that Boil hasn’t left his boyfriend’s side for the past two years and for that alone, Boil is definitely a sure member of the Fetts. Hardcase and their younger brothers, Tup and Dogma, also promised to come.

The house is going to be packed full, and Cody can’t wait to see his family again.

Meanwhile, Ben sets off at a brisk pace, grabbing Cody’s wrist and turning right, down the road and away from the village.

“Won’t you tell me where we’re going?” Cody asks for the tenth time. Ben just smirks and carries on walking, but lets go of Cody’s wrist. He immediately misses the contact, but continues to exploit the opportunity to stare at Ben’s face questioningly. 

He’s pale, still, always has been. His eyes are stupidly blue, reflecting the endless blue sky, and there are those little threads of green, like leaves, in his irises, too. His cheeks are slowly staining pink with cold and his lips are red in contrast to his skin, and his hair has grown out enough to flop over his forehead, dangling into his eyes.

He turns to grin at Cody, and his stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat.

“You’ll see.” Ben's grin turns sharp and Cody barely has time to think  _ oh no. _ “You still cold?”

Cody grumbles an affirmative.

“Well, some nice running will warm you up.” And with that, he’s off, sprinting down the side of the road.

Cody takes off after him, but he’s not as athletic as Ben, and doesn’t manage to catch up before Ben is twisting left, down a public footpath, leaping over fallen logs with grace and agility that Cody only dreams of matching. He keeps to a steady pace, though, and doesn’t fall too far behind.

They run through an alley of bare trees, branches stripped of their greenery by winter. The ground is surprisingly hard for this time of year - it’s been a dry few weeks, so there isn’t any mud, thankfully. The fields are brown and still glinting with frost in the shadows, leaves scattered around the side of the path, glittering with ice in the sunlight that’s making abstract patterns on the ground where it shines through the trees.

Ben tripped over a root at the entrance to a field while Cody was admiring the scenery, and although he didn't fall, he’s slowed down enough for Cody to catch up to him. He launches himself at Ben’s back from behind and they collapse onto the ground together, laughing maniacally. They wrestle in the wet grass, laughing too hard to actually do much, until Cody ends up on his back and Ben is sprawled on top of him, panting heavily.

Cody freezes and Ben does too. Their faces are inches away, and Ben’s eyes keep darting down to his lips, and if Cody leans in a little they’re gonna-

Someone clears their throat, loudly, off to the side, and Ben jerks away, scrambling to his feet. He’s blushing bright red and Cody’s face feels too hot as he gets up too, smiling apologetically at the disgruntled dog-walker going in the opposite direction.

He passes by, muttering under his breath, something about  _ young people having no shame these days  _ as his dog yips cheerfully at them. Ben smiles lopsidedly at Cody, his hat askew too, and they look away, trying to stifle helpless giggles. 

They stand there, on the path, out in the open fields, breath puffing out in cold plumes, the sky endless over their heads, and Cody’s suddenly filled with a sense of déjà vu. It’s quiet, save for their breathing and the crunch of grass under their feet as they shuffle, a little awkward now, not quite looking at each other. He’s suddenly aware of the wet patches up his jeans, of the leaf in his hair, of Ben’s presence by his side. Of the future, of life, and something  _ more  _ that he can’t quite put his finger on.

He cranes his head up, at the sky that’s almost the same colour as Ben’s eyes. At the sky, which will glitter with stars in a few short hours, the stars that he knows Ben wants to visit so much. At the sky, which is all the possibilities that can ever happen, the sky for which they reach.

_ Ben Kenobi, the boy who cradled the stars,  _ he thinks vaguely, then flushes at the cheesiness of his own mind. He turns his head just a little to look at Ben out of corner of his eye. 

Ben's looking up, almost in awe, at the cloudless oxygen-blue, his own breaths drawing patterns against that fresh canvas. 

They make their own future, from now on. 

* * *

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” Fives yells, at fuck o’clock in the morning. “WAKE THE FUCK UP, IT’S TIME FOR PRESENTS!”

Cody groans and stuffs his face into his pillow - but he hears the sound of Ben sitting up, far too quickly for it to be anything but bad, and his eyes snap open of their own volition. 

Ben is halfway out of bed, eyes too big, and he’s pale as a sheet, shaking - then catches sight of Cody and relaxes, fractionally.

It’s a visceral reminder that while sometimes it seems like everything’s okay - there are some things that won’t go away with a little (a lot of) TLC.

“Sorry.” Ben mumbles thickly. “Just. Surprised me.”

Cody falls back onto his pillow with a thump, heart beating too fast. He breathes for a few seconds, then makes a quick decision and sits up, wobbling.

“You wanna get in with me?” He asks blearily.

Ben stares at him. Cody expects him to say no, but he knows that Ben sneaks off to curl up with Anakin in moments like these - but he can  _ definitely  _ hear Anakin screeching  _ presents!  _ in tandem with Ahsoka, Fives and Hardcase. Rex, however, bellows  _ shut up! _ so that’s one less troublemaker to deal with. But since Anakin isn’t there to give comfort, as neither of them are going anywhere near the living room until the hyperactivity is over, it's perfectly rational to do this. Totally logical. The fact that he really wants to cuddle with Ben is secondary.

To his surprise, Ben gets up and makes his way on clicky joints over to Cody, sitting down awkwardly on the edge of the bed in too-big pyjamas. He looks small, again, and vulnerable, and incredibly tired. Cody thinks that he'll either be out like a light or will toss and turn until they decide to actually get up and do something.

“Wall or edge of the bed?” Cody asks, nudging Ben gently.

“Wall.” Ben’s voice is raspy and trembling with what could be tears. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Get in.”

He lifts the duvet up and Ben shuffles under it, rolling so that he’s got his back to Cody. It’s a purely defensive position, one that he knows only too well. 

Sighing, he lies down next to his best friend and draps the duvet over himself, then has a split second to realise that they’re sharing a bed, and not just a bed a  _ pillow _ and his nose is inches from the back of Ben’s head and  _ fuck he’s pretty much pressed up against Ben’s back this was a no good very bad idea- _

While he’s panicking, Ben manages to turn around and  _ now their noses are brushing and Ben’s knee is on his and jesus fucking christ this is how he’s going to die _ .

“Cody?” Ben sounds  _ concerned  _ and Cody is  _ so not ready or okay why- _

Cody makes a strangled sound and Ben frowns at him in confusion.

“You okay?” He asks softly.

Cody scrapes his last remaining braincell off the inside of his skull and manages to form words.

“I should be asking you that.”

“Well, I’m. Better.” Ben suddenly goes brick red and all flustered and it’d be adorable if Cody wasn’t  _ this close to throwing himself into the fucking sun _ . “Thank you.”

“Good.” Cody swallows and that was  _ way too loud oh fuck _ . “That’s, um. Good.”

Ben sighs and closes his eyes. He’s still blushing furiously and he’s close enough that Cody can count all the freckles on the bridge of his nose in the beam of light coming through the crack in the wooden door.

Cody shifts, and suddenly they’re much closer than they were before. He really hopes Ben can’t hear - or feel - his heartbeat. It feels like he’s got a herd of rhinos stuck in his chest.

“You sure you’re okay?” Ben’s eyes peel open again and Cody would like to die. “Your heart’s racing.”

“I’m fine.” Cody manages. “Fine. Go back to sleep.”

Ben makes a noncommittal sound but his eyes drift shut again. He snuggles down, almost unconsciously, and Cody has to physically  _ resist  _ the urge to wrap himself around Ben like an octopus. If he falls asleep, it’ll probably be very awkward when they wake up. It’ll be awkward in any case. 

_ Fuck _ .

Ben’s warm, though, and his breathing has slowed down - he’s falling asleep already. Cody smiles, for a brief second, and decides that he’s going to have to adapt and just...take what he can get.

Soon, Ben’s breathing has evened out and deepened into a pattern that Cody recognises from sleepless nights, listening to Ben toss and turn. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and relaxes, almost melting into Ben. 

He takes a chance and moves closer, worming one arm across Ben’s chest and his right under his pillow. His right hand nudges Ben’s under the pillow - they’re in the same position, apparently, but mirroring each other. He can’t bring himself to move away, even though his entire body is - tingling, almost, and his breath keeps catching in his throat.

But he too, eventually closes his eyes, and falls asleep on Christmas morning with his best friend and not-so-secret love of his life in his arms.

* * *

Cody is revoking Wolffe’s kneecap privileges. He’s going to destroy him. He’s going to  _ annihilate him until he’s a puddle of goop. _

Wolffe, for the entirety of the past week, has been the main perpetrator of every single embarrassing moment for Cody and Ben. To quote the bastard, “Cody, I’m doing this out of love, you two just need to  _ bone _ . Bone that red-headed twinkle of yours, I’m begging you. Or at least  _ hold hands or something equally disgusting- _ "

And so on. Now, Wolffe is howling - haha  _ dog joke  _ \- with laughter at his latest scheme. Actually, that’s an idea.

“Quit howling, dog boy.” Cody snaps, face burning. 

Today is apparently the day to get into compromising positions with Ben, which is honestly his fault. First he invited Ben into his bed -  _ not like that - _ and then they'd woken up. And. And Cody had been pressed up against him and absolutely hugging him like an octopus. Ben had been awake and wriggling a little, because Cody was holding on to him that tightly and then - Rex had walked in. It was like something out of a romcom, his life is a romcom now.

Rex had backed out yelling  _ ohmygodpleASEDON'T BE NAKED  _ which resulted in Cody falling off the bed and smacking his head on his bedside table, Ben blinking owlishly in the sudden light.

And now. Now he’s playing  _ Twister _ and it’s getting very (un)sexy but incredibly funny for everyone  _ else _ in the room, because god fucking dammit it is Christmas day and the entire family has conspired against them. Waxer and Boil are cackling in the corner, Fox is clutching his stomach beside Wolffe, who’s actually starting to look indignant now (bastard’s weakness is dog jokes and Cody’s going to  _ beat him to the floor with them _ ). Fives and Echo are plotting with Hardcase on the sofa while Tup and Dogma lounge on the floor next to them. Jesse and Bly look sympathetic, but Aayla is laughing, too. Even Din has cracked a smile, a tiny little thing, while Paz and Cara smirk. The only saving grace is that Ahsoka and Anakin are sequestered in the kitchen with Jango and the kid baking, so at least they’re not there to witness PG-13 going out of the fucking window and falling to its death. 

Cody wants to cry. Ben looks like he shares that sentiment.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Wolffe is ‘beefing up’ as Fox likes to put it, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest like an angry bird. Cody snorts at the image. Wolffe's gonna be getting a present soon, and it's going to be his face pasted onto a bird of paradise doing a mating dance. That should ensure Cody a second trip to hospital, if he survives this, but hey, that's what free healthcare _isn't_ for. “Say that to my face, c’mon.”

“You wanna get  _ ruff  _ with me?” Cody taunts. He ignores the fact that he’s got a knee between Ben’s legs and that he chose to twist around rather than lie flat on Ben’s back to reach the only available spots. Behind him, Rex is in a much more dignified position, so he just  _ knows  _ Wolffe is playing dirty.

_ Sweet, sweet revenge,  _ he thinks vindictively as Wolffe splutters.

“Why does  _ everyone always make fucking dog puns!” _

“Toughen up, pug.” Fox wheezes into his wine.

“Yeah, there’s no need to get barking mad.” Ben drawls, far too composed.

“Fur real.” Fox contributes, but it's barely intelligible, he's laughing so hard. Cody doesn't think that the half bottle of wine he's already imbibed is helping in that respect.

“Your behaviour.” Fives pipes up from the couch, which has apparently degraded into a cuddle pile and they’re all looking at something on Hardcase’s phone. Memes probably. “Is pretty  _ paw _ .”

Wolffe, to his credit, doesn’t start screaming. He _does_ look like he’s about to spontaneously combust, though. 

Suddenly, he sags defeatedly, scowling at the floor. 

“Furget it.” He mutters and the room stops.

“Did you…” Cody starts, awed. “Did  _ you _ just make a  _ pun _ ?”

Wolffe crosses his arms and glares.

“Please tell me someone recorded that.” Rex manages through his laughter. “ _ Please _ .

Fox  _ wails _ .

“Ben.” Wolffe spits. “Left hand yellow.”

The tense silence is so thick you could physically cut it with a knife. They're waiting for something. Cody just  _ knows _ the Fetts have Officially Planned This, which means the plan is an evil scheme and what's worse is that it's going to  _ work. _

“I can’t do that!” Ben accidentally shifts and Cody hisses through his teeth. “Sorry. Um. But I can’t!”

“Left hand yellow.” Wolffe repeats and he’s grinning like Megamind now.  _ Bitch _ , Cody thinks venomously. 

Ben groans, loudly, and takes his hand off the floor - and they both promptly collapse into a messy tangle of limbs. 

_ Shit shit shit shit, absolute fucking- _

They’re too close again, plastered against each other, Cody on his elbows above Ben this time, and he’s got a knee between Ben’s thighs and his arm is under Ben’s back and their noses are touching-

“Hey, lovebirds!” Rex chirps, and he’s standing over them with-

Oh no.

_ Oh no. _

“C’mon, ancient tradition.” Fox chips in happily. “And now…" he pauses dramatically, looking for all the world like the cat that just got the cream. Or the fox that caught the chicken. Whatever. He's going to be dead later, anyway, " _ kiss. _ ”

Cody looks down at Ben, who’s got tousled hair, sticking to his forehead, his eyes bright and his cheeks as red as his lips. Cody thinks, vaguely  _ fuck it _ , and drops down to peck Ben on the lips.

Ben gasps and Cody can’t help but steal the sound off him, deepening the kiss, and this is probably breaking some rules and about ten different bro codes, but he doesn’t give a shit because  _ holy mother of fuck he's kissing Ben- _

The room explodes into relieved cheering and whistling, which is oddly similar to the victory dance that his last braincell is doing in his head - and they break apart. 

Ben stares up at him with wide, wide eyes. Cody can see all the patterns in them now, the intricate greenery of the irises in the warm firelight, the flickering emotions-

Cody thinks  _ fuck it _ again and knocks their foreheads together, even though his arms are shaking dangerously. He had a PowerPoint presentation, but apparently he’ll never get to use it. Right now, he doesn’t care. Even though he was very, very proud of it.

“Do you wanna go on a date, sometime?” He whispers.

There are a few seconds while his words register, and he counts five rabbit-quick heartbeats before Ben’s entire face lights up, and there’s something new and bright and  _ happy  _ dawning in his eyes, a grin breaking out over his face like sunrise.

“ _ Yes. _ ” He breathes emphatically.

And Cody grins back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the people who've supported me through this - everyone who's left kudos, comments, bookmarks, has subscribed - I'm infinitely grateful to y'all. Thank you.   
> To Nemo, my best friend and beta, who's invaluable. Graeme, the best cheerleader. To Beowulf, who cheered me on from the very start and proudly told me that I've officially written a novella. I love you all. Thank you. 
> 
> AnywAY, that was pretty much pure fluff, I think we all deserved that after so much pain. Thank you once again and my love to y'all!
> 
> Stay tuned for the last chapter :)

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! They keep my hopes up and my writing going. :)
> 
> I also screech very quietly on Tumblr [here](https://thedisasternerd.tumblr.com/), so come chat/yell with me.


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